W V-2. 7/ 

.K33 



Ill I llll II 



022 204 599 A 



4271 




ELLOGG*S 
SCHOOL El 
ERT> 



Best School Entertainments 

FOR SPECIAL DAYS AND ALL DAYS 

What difficulties teachers have in trying to provide suitable material for 
school entertainments and how much money they spend without very satisfactory 
results. Here are forty-three books, made with the needs of the teachers in view, 
containing exercises of the most attractive kind for every school occasion. They 
give sufficient material for many years at a cost much less than would otherwise 
be expended for something that cannot prove as satisfactory. 

Kellogg's Practical Recitations, New selections from best authors. .25 
Kellogg's Practical Dialogs, Short, natural, popular. - - - - .25 

Kellogg's tittle Primary Pieces, Gems for little people. - - - .25 
Kellogg's Primary Speaker, Simple rhymes for primary grades. - .25 
Kellogg's Practical Declamations, About 100 good short speeches. .25 
Kellogg's Special Day Exercises, 35 splendid selections. - - - .25 
Kellogg's Mature Recitations, Poems about animals, flowers, seasons. .25 
Kellogg's YanAmburgh's Menagerie, Simple, humorous play. - .15 
Kellogg's His Roval Nibs, Easy dialog for boys and girls. - - - . | 5 
Gannett s Who Killed Cock Robin and Marching in the School 

Room, (Illus.) Gymnastic play and designs for marching. - - .30 
LambertonN Timothy Cloverseed, Laughable sketch for three 

characters. --------------.15 

How to Celebrate Arbor Day, Origin of Arbor Day, tree planting .25 
How to Celebrate Washington's Birthday 10 exercises, drills, etc. .25 
How to Celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. All grades, 

songs, tableaux, recitations. --------- .25 

Spring and Summer School Celebrations, For Easter, May D iy 

Memorial Day, July 4, Closing Day. --- .35 

New Year and Midwinter Exercises, Complete programs on 

Dickens, Burns, New Year, Winter. -- .25 

Fancy Drills aud Marches, Attractive and appropriate for all holidays. .25 
Christmas Entertainments, Tableaux, 5 short plays, new songs .25 

Authors' Birthdays, No. 1, Longfellow, Bryant, Hawthorne, Holmes, 

Burns, Dickens, Shakespeare. - .25 

Authors' Birthdays, No. £, Whittier, Emerson, Lowell, Irving, Milton 

Tennyson, Scott. -- '-__. .25 

Primary Recitations. New. 100 selections, bright and sparkling. - .25 
Patriotic Quotations, Over 300 selections, to inspire love of country. .25 
Quotation Book for Grammar Grades, New. 340 short, extracts. .25 
Tip Top Dialogs, A brand new collection, delightfully humorous. - .25 
Lincoln the Patriot, Speeches, anecdotes, sketch, portrait. - - .15 
At the Court of King Winter, For Christmas. "Winter, Winds, Santa 

Olaus, etc. ------ -------..15 

A Visit from Mother Goot«e, Christmas play for primary pupils. .15 
An Object Lesson in History. Historic scenes about Boston. - ,15 
Banner i>ays of the Republic, Patriotic Songs with pretty cos- 
tumes. - - - - - - -- - - - - - - . ,15 

Mother Nature's Festival, For Spring. Birds, flowers, trees, April, 

May. .15 

Christmas Star, A fancy drill with songs and recitations. 10 girls. - .1^5 
Primary Fancy Drills, Fan Fairies for little girls. Ring Drill for 24 child. .15 
New Year's Reception. Musical Characters, New Year, Old Year, etc,', 15 
Wori* Conquers*, Closing exercises for 11 boys and 8 girls. .15 

A Fancy Scarf Drill. Music, and 30 movements. For girls. - - .15 
A Noble Spy, A play for boys. Six acts. Historical. - .15 

Mother Goose Festival, Musical entertainment. Very attractive. .15 
Little Red Riding-Hood, Musical play. Full directions for costumes. .15 
A Christmas Meeting, for 25 children. Dryads, Jack Frost, Father Time,. 15 
Arbor Day in Primary Room, Recitations and songs for small children. 1 5 
A Visit from Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus For 21 or more— all grades. .15 
New Arbor Day Exercise^ , A single but complete program. - - .15 
Twenty-Four Page Program for Arbor Day, A fresh, new pro- 
gram ready for use- .10 
Askfor free copy Kellogg's School Entertainment Catalog, 700 books described. 

E. L. KELLOGG & CO., 61 E. 9th St., New York 



PRACTICAL 
DECLAMATIONS 



PIECES TO SPEAK FOR 
SCHOOL ENTERTAINMENT 



ARRANGED BY 



AMOS M. KELLOGG 

Editor of The School Journal, The Teachers Institute, 
Author op School Management . ,*> 







NEW YORK AND CHICAGO 

E. L. KELLOGG & CO. 



tf- 






\ 




KELLOGG'S LATEST 

Scbool Entertainment Boofce 

LATEST ISSUES 

Kellogg's Practical Recitations - 25c. 

Kellogg' s Practical Dialogs - - - 25c. 

Kellogg' s Little Primary Pieces - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Primary Speaker - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Practical Declamations - - 25c. 

Kellogg' s Special Day Exercises - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Nature Recitations - 25c. 
Gannett's Who Killed Cock Robin, and 

Marching in the School-Room (ill us.) 30c. 

Kellogg's— Van Amburgh's Menagerie - 15c. 

Kellogg's Months of the Year - - - 15c. 

Kellogg's New Patriotic Exercises - - 1 5c. 

Lambarton's Timothy Clover Seed - - 15c. 
Kellogg's The Wonderful Doctor, and 

Troubles Everywhere - - - - 15c. 

Kellogg's His Royal Nibs - - - - 15c. 

OTHER VALUABLE 'BOOKS IN THE SERIES 

Kellogg's Spring and Summer School Cele- 
brations ------ 25c. 

Kellogg's Authors' Birthdays, No. 1 - - 15c. 

Kellogg's Authors' Birthdays, No. 2 - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Primary Recitations - - - 25c. 

Kellogg? s;Nfesw Year and Midwinter Exercises 25c. 

Kellogg's; Ti£ Top Dialogs - - - 25c. 

Keltdggfs'How to Celebrate Thanksgiving 

and Christmas ----- 25c. 

"Ke^logg'S £ hjistmas Entertainment - - 25c. 

JCgllogg's y # oAv to Celebrate Washington's 

Birtrtday - • - - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Patriotic Quotations - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's Quotation Book - - - - 25c. 

Kellogg's New Fancy Drills and Marches - 25c. 

Kellogg's Home Coming of Autumn's Queen 25c. 

KeMogg's Arbor Day in the Primary Room 15c. 

Kellogg's Lincoln the Patriot - - - 15c. 

Kellogg's Flag Day in the School-Room - 15c. 

Kellogg's Primary Fancy Drills - - - 15c. 



a- 



Copyright 1903 by 
E. L. KELLOGG & CO., New York. 



IX- ? &o 



A 



Contents. 



PAGE 

Success in Life 5 

The Grandeur of Labor 6 

Summer 8 

The Value of an Enemy 8 

What is Your Way ? 9 

Your Time Will Come 10 

Things to Remember n 

The Statue of Liberty 12 

Eloquence . 13 

The Boys Know Something 14 

Ossian's Address to the Sun 15 

Take Care of No. i 16 

A Sermon on Rum 17 

Beware of Alcohol 18 

Fun 19 

Mind Your Business 20 

The Giant in the Coal-Bin 21 

Real Power 22 

Advice to Girls 23 

What an Enemy Does for You 24 

A Boy's Troubles ^ 25 

The Rights of Animals 26 

A Modern Dragon : 27 

Your Father and Your Mother 28 

Be Unselfish 29 

South Carolina and Massachusetts 30 

The Fame of Washington 31 

The Indian to the White Man 32 

The Battle of Saratoga 34 

What to Expect. 35 

Determine Not to Drink 36 

Good Habits 37 

The True Girl 37 

Pride of Ancestry 38 

Make Friends 40 

Don't Whine 41 

Push 42 

3 



Contents 



PAGE 

Advice to Girls 42 

Work or Spoil 44 

Capital 45 

How to Get Him 46 

A Sermon 47 

Strive for the Best. 48 

Valedictory 49 

Death of Caesar 51 

The Story of Garfield 52 

The Mind and Its Creations 57 

Night Reflections 60 

The Rule of Life 61 

What the World Owes Us 62 

Peter Cooper 63 

Death and Immortality 65 

A Great Inheritance 66 

Demosthenes to the Athenians 67 

The Result of Effort 68 

Intemperance 70 

A Sermon on Tobacco 70 

Liberty and Drunkenness 71 

Being a Boy 72 

Two Kinds 'of Foolishness 74 

Advice to a Young Man 75 

Our Homes 76 

You Must Work Your Own Way 77 

Adam or Liberty 78 

Politeness 79 

Gaining Success 80 

Signs of Hard Times 81 

Unsolved Mysteries 82 

Advice to Girls 83 

Look Up 84 

Keep from the Saloon 85 

True Success 86 

Do It for Yourself 86 

You Must Try 88 

The Rumseller's Speech 89 

Cheek 89 

A Valedictory Address 90 

Employ Your Intellect 92 

A Closing Address 93 

Work. 94 



{Practical Declamations.) 



practical Reclamations. 



Success in Life. 

What is success? Is it beginning poor and getting 
large wealth ? It is true that most people take this view 
of the case, but it is a very narrow one. The example of 
Stewart, the merchant prince, has been held up before 
thousands of young men; but did he make a success 
of his life? He came to this country from Ireland" 
he began to sell goods in a small way, but at last L - 
had a large store in the city of New York. He accu 
mulated an immense fortune, for he had excellent 
business tact. So far he was successful, but the 
ancient Greek maxim must be borne in mind, " Count 
no man happy until he is dead." After he is dead it 
is easy to measure him up. 

What did he with his millions — that is the question. 
He built a grand hotel in Saratoga; it became noted 
chiefly because it excluded the Jews. He built a 
home for working women, but made rules so unjust 
that they would not accept it. A town was laid out 
ostensibly for workingmen, but workingmen do not 
find it a place they like. A cathedral was built de- 
signed as a mausoleum for the merchant's bones, but 
his bones for a long time could not be found. At 



6 practical Exclamation^ 

last the business that once gave employment to several 
thousand persons had to be closed up. 

The name of Stewart has been cited because he 
rose from poverty to great wealth, but yet was not a 
type of a successful man. Thousands are most suc- 
cessful who never attain to great riches. 

The Grandeur of Labor. 

The dignity of labor! Consider its achievements! 
Dismayed by no difficulty, shrinking from no exer- 
tion, exhausted by no struggle, ever eager for re- 
newed efforts in its persevering promotion of human 
happiness, " clamorous labor knocks with its hun- 
dred hands at the golden gate of the morning," ob- 
taining each day fresh benefactions for the world! 

Labor clears the forest and drains the morass and 
makes "the wilderness rejoice and blossom as the 
rose." Labor drives the plow, scatters the seeds, 
reaps the harvest, grinds the corn, and converts it 
into bread, the staff of life. Labor gathers the gossa- 
mer web of the caterpillar, the cotton from the field, 
the fleece from the flock, and weaves it into raiment, 
soft and warm and beautiful — the purple robe of 
the prince and the gray gown of the peasant being 
alike its handiwork. Labor molds the brick, and 
splits the slate, and quarries the stone, and shapes 
the column, and rears not only the humble cottage 
but the gorgeous palace, the tapering spire, and the 
stately dome. 

Labor, diving deep into the solid earth, brings up 
its long-hidden stores of coal to feed ten thousand 
furnaces, and in millions of habitations to defy the 
winter's cold. Labor explores the rich veins of deeply 
buried rocks, extracting the gold and silver, the copper 
and tin. Labor melts the iron and molds it into a 



W$z ^ranfieur of 3labor* 7 

thousand shapes for use or ornament, from the massive 
pillar to the tiniest needle, from the ponderous anchor 
to the wire gauze. 

Labor hews down the gnarled oak, and shapes the 
timber, and builds the ship, and guides it over the 
deep, plunging through the billows and wrestling 
with the tempest, to bear to our shores the produce of 
every clime. Labor, laughing at difficulties, spans 
majestic rivers, carries viaducts over marshy swamps, 
suspends bridges over deep ravines, pierces the solid 
mountain with its dark tunnel, blasting rocks and 
filling hollows, and, while linking together, with its 
iron but loving grasp, all nations of the earth, verify- 
ing, in a literal sense, the ancient prophecy, " every 
valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill 
shall be brought low!" 

Labor draws forth its delicate iron thread, and 
stretching it from city to city, from province to prov- 
ince, through mountains and beneath the sea, realizes 
more than fancy ever fabled, while it constructs a 
chariot on which speech may outstrip the wind, for 
the telegram flies as rapidly as thought itself. 

Labor, a mighty magician, walks forth into a region 
uninhabited and waste. He looks earnestly at the 
scene so quiet in its desolation, then, waving his won- 
der-working wand, those dreary valleys smile with 
golden harvests, the furnace blazes, the anvil rings, 
the busy wheel whirls round, the town appears. The 
mart of commerce, the hall of science, the temple of 
religion, rear their lofty fronts. A forest of masts, 
gay with varied pennons, rises from the harbor; repre- 
sentatives of far-off regions make it their resort. 

Science enlists the elements of earth and heaven 
in the service of labor. Art, awakening, clothes its 
strength with beauty. Civilization smiles, Liberty is 
glad, Humanity rejoices, Piety exults, when the voice 
of Industry is heard in the land. — Newman Hall. 



8 practical Declamations 



Summer. 

They may tell me all they please that cold weather 
is bracing, that it destroys the fever and all that, but 
for all that, I am for the summer. Do you ask me 
why? I will tell you. In winter I have to split 
twice as much wood and carry up four times as much 
coal, and get up five times as early to light five times 
as many fires, and go on four times as many errands 
in the bleak wind as I do in summer; and if I come in 
with snow on my shoes, or leave the door open, I — 
but I will not speak of it in public it is too, too harrow- 
ing (weeps)! Oh, give me the summer, the calm 
golden summer, when I can go swimming eight times a 
day, and go bull-frogging, and eat green apples. In 
summer, if I remember, the circus comes around, the 
band begins to play, and every boy is there to see the 
man that turns the double somersault over backward 
and not sprain himself at all. In the golden summer 
comes the Sunday-school picnic, and then the ice 
cream and cake taste particularly nice. It is in summer 
that I eat my strawberry shortcakes and gooseberry 
pie. Vacation comes in summer, in fact about every 
thing that is good for boys comes in the summer. Mr. 
Speaker, sir, I am decidedly for summer. 



The Value of an Enemy. 

Always keep an enemy on hand, a brisk, hearty, 
active enemy. For the having one is proof that you 
are somebody. Wishy-washy, empty, worthless people 
never have enemies. Men who never move never run 
against anything; and when a man is thoroughly 
dead and utterly buried nothing ever runs against him. 



WW is ^our WW ? 9 

To be run against is proof of existence and position; 
to run against something is proof of motion. 

True, an enemy is not partial to you. He will not 
flatter you. He will not exaggerate your virtues. 
It is very probable that he will slightly magnify your 
faults. The benefit of that is twofold; it permits 
you to know that you have faults, and are, therefore, 
not an angel, and it makes them of such size as to be 
visible and manageable. Of course, if you have a 
fault you desire to know it; when you become aware 
that you have a fault you desire to correct it. Your 
enemy does for you this valuable work which your 
friend cannot perform. — Rev. Dr. Deems. 



What is Your Way? 

Some people have queer ways; for instance, Sammie, 
a little friend of mine, always slams the door after 
him; he puts his feet down with such force that his 
approach on the hardwood floors of his mamma's 
artistic sitting-room is dreaded; he throws his school- 
books around and makes a commotion generally. 
"It is only my way," he says sometimes in apology. 
But it is a very unpleasant w T ay, Master Sammie. 

His sister has her own way of doing things, too. 
When asked to amuse the baby for a few moments, 
she is ready and willing; but she is so impatient 
with the little thing that in a short time it is crying. 
She is always in a hurry. Dinner is never soon enough 
for her; the family is always late in her estimation. 

Carrie is always wanting to start for school so as 
to be a half-hour early; and father and mother are 
kept in a continual state of excitement while the 
young daughter is around, for she means to be first 
at school. Their wavs are very unlike. 



io practical acclamations 

What is your way of doing things? Have you a 
pleasant way of speaking? Have you a way of mak- 
ing those about you happy? Have you a way of 
looking bright, even in the morning, for your own 
family? Have you a way of helping others? What 
kind of a way have you ? Stop and think. 



Your Time Will Come. 

The motto of the famous Maurice of Holland was, 
" Tandem fit sur cuius arbor"; "At length the twig 
becomes a tree." Your day is to come. It will first 
have a dawn though, and it may be a dawn strug- 
gling through clouds. You must confront all obsta- 
cles with a resolute will. There is great hope for 
the man who has a "must" in his vocabulary. Crom- 
well in the old w T ar-days said, "It may be difficult to 
raise so many men in so short a time, but let me assure 
you it's necessary and therefore must be done." It 
is no wonder that the sword of that man reached 
"from Land's End to John O'Groat's House." Have 
a will. 

Still, there may be a long waiting for results. You 
must be patient and remember that, notwithstanding 
all opposition, you count one. Philip of Spain used to 
say, "With time and myself, there are two of us." 
That was good mathematics. Time and a patient 
man will work wonders. Do not forget that you 
have a will, and to that add patience. 

It will be helpful to will and helpful to patience, 
and aid to start us and keep us going, if when young 
we remember how serious and real are the responsi- 
bilities beckoning us on. It was Garfield who said, 
"The children of to-day will be the architects of our 
country's destiny in 1900." From what mountain- top 



®tyn%g to ftemember* u 

of observation could a young man have looked off 
and seen so grand a prospect opening before him as 
there is to-day? 

But youth ought not to forget that its best work 
will be in the character it makes. Victories for that 
which is pure, loving, noble, let it win, remembering 
that God is with them. George Fox said, "I saw 
that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but 
an infinite ocean of light and love which flowed over 
the ocean of darkness." Faith in God, let us take out. 
Then we are ready for success or failure in the future. 

And what if we seemingly fail ? James Russell Low- 
ell says, "Not failure, but low aim, is crime." To him 
who sincerely tries, there is no such thing as absolute 
failure. — E. A. Rand. 



Things to Remember. 

A man cannot whip the world. Let him make up 
his mind to that at the very start, for the world has 
strength in its arms that no assault can batter down, 
no industry or perseverance can tire. No energy 
will bend these arms, no amount of pluck will break 
them. All a man's best efforts will be worse than 
thrown away if he undertakes to keep up any fool- 
ish sparring with this big world. No, no! The 
right way is to make friends with the world immediately, 
and tackle something smaller. 

The world will be glad of your friendship, too, 
for it wants you and needs you; it has something 
for you to do. If you will find out what that is and 
go at it, then your brains and energy will work wonders. 

If the world wants you for a surgeon and you try 
to be a farmer, you will fail; if the world wants you 
to invent machinery and you undertake to be a musi- 
cian, you will fail; if the world wants you for a teacher 



i2 practical Exclamations 

and you ship for a sailor, you will fail; if the world 
wants you to sing and you persist in making shoes, 
you will fail, — at the end of all your efforts failure 
will be written if you try to do what the world doesn't 
want you to do. 

The world wants and needs every man to do what 
he is by nature fitted for and what he can do best; 
he may have a hard struggle in doing this at first, but 
he is bound to win if he has pluck, for the world is on 
his side. But if a man is working contrary to his 
natural aptitude the whole world is against him; 
whatever his immediate, apparent success, he will be 
ultimately — and must be inevitably — a failure. 

The wise man will not fight against the world; 
but with it. The world is big and strong and he 
is little and weak; no matter how much energy and 
talent he has, no matter how good he is, the world 
is sure to beat. 



The Statue of Liberty. 

Two nations united to dedicate the greatest statue 
of modern times, " Liberty Enlightening the World," 
which will stand for ages as a monument, commemora- 
tive of the greatest fact of modern times, the fact that 
educated citizens can govern themselves. A hundred 
years ago only a few believed the fact, but now it 
remains undisputed wherever the sun shines on Chris- 
tian civilization. 

This magnificent statue stands in the harbor of New 
York and welcomes the emigrant as he lands on our 
shores. An eminent poet thus addresses it: 

Warder at ocean's gate, 

Thy feet on sea and shore, 
Like one the skies await 

When time shall be no more! 



(Eloquence* 13 

What splendors crown thy brow ? 
What bright dread angel thou, 
Dazzling the waves before 
Thy station great? 

O wonderful and bright, 
Immortal Freedom, hail! 
Front, in thy fiery might, 

The midnight and the gale; 
Undaunted on this base 
Guard well thy dwelling-place: 
Till the last sun grow pale 
Let there be light! 

— Edmund C. Stedman. 



Eloquence. 

True eloquence does not consist in speech. It 
cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning 
may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words 
and phrases may be marshaled in every way, but 
they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, 
in the subject, in the occasion. Affected passion, 
intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all 
may aspire after it, they cannot reach it. It comes, 
if it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain 
from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, 
with spontaneous, original, and native force. The 
graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments, 
and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust 
men when their own lives and the fate of their wives, 
their children, and their country hang on the decision 
of the hour. Then words have lost their power, 
rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. 
Even genius itself, then, feels rebuked and subdued 
as in the presence of higher qualities. Then, patriot- 
ism, is . eloquent. Then, self-devotion is eloquent. 



14 practical SDeclamattou^ 

The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of 
logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless 
spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, 
informing every feature, and urging the whole man on- 
ward, right onward to his object — this, this is elo- 
quence; or, rather, it is something greater and higher 
than eloquence. It is action — noble, sublime, and 
godlike action. — Daniel Webster. 



The Boys Know Something. 

Beloved " grown-up folks": Don't imagine that you 
know it all, for you don't; the boys know something; 
give them a chance, and see if their ideas are not 
worth something. And, boys, let us set our wits to 
work, and prove how much we know. Show our elders 
that a fellow needn't be fifty years old before he knows 
anything. When you see an engine, or a contrivance 
of any sort, that is doing new work, look at it with 
your mind as well as your eyes, and see if you can't 
add something to it to make it do better. 

Some of the most important inventions have been 
the work of boys. The invention of the valve-motion 
to the steam-engine was made by one for Newcome's 
engine. There was no way to open or close the valves 
except by means of levers operated by the hand. New- 
come set up a large engine at one of the mines, and a 
boy, Humphrey Potter, was hired to work these valve- 
levers; although this was not hard work, yet it required 
his constant attention. He procured a strong cord, 
and made one end fast to the part of the engine that 
moves, and the other end to the valve-lever; and then 
had the satisfaction of seeing the engine move with 
perfect regularity of motion. A short time after the 
foreman came around, and saw the boy playing marbles 
at the door, Looking at the engine, he saw the in- 



®#*ian 9 * &mxte* to tlje %>wn. 15 

. genuity of the boy, and also the advantage of so great 
an invention. The idea suggested by the boy's in- 
ventive genius was put in a practical form, and made 
the steam engine an automatic- working machine. 

The power-loom is the invention of a farmer's boy 
who had never seen or heard of such a thing. He 
whittled one out with his jack-knife, and after he 
had got it all done, he, with great enthusiasm, showed 
it to his father, who at once kicked it to pieces, saying 
that he would have no boy about him who would 
spend his time on such foolish things. 

The boy was sent to a blacksmith to learn a trade, 
and his master took a lively interest in him. He 
made a loom of what was left of the one his father 
had broken up, and showed it to his master. The 
blacksmith saw that he had no common boy as an 
apprentice, and that the invention was a valuable one. 
He had a loom constructed under the supervision of 
the boy. It worked to their perfect satisfaction, and 
the blacksmith furnished the means to manufacture 
the looms, and the boy received half the profits. In 
about a year the blacksmith wrote to the boy's father 
that he should bring with him a wealthy gentleman 
who was the inventor of the celebrated power-loom. 
Judge of the astonishment at the old home, when 
his son was presented to him as the inventor, who told 
him that the loom was the same as the model that he 
had kicked to pieces but a year before. 



Ossian's Address to the Sun. 

O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of 
my fathers! whence are thy beams, O Sun? thy 
everlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful 
beauty; the stars hide themselves in the sky; the 
moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave. But 



1 6 practical 2T>eciamation& 

thou thyself movest alone: who can be a companion 
of thy course? 

The oaks of the mountains fall; the mountains them- 
selves decay with years, the ocean shrinks and grows 
again; the moon herself is lost in the heavens; but 
thou art forever the same, rejoicing in the brightness 
of thy course. 

When the world is dark with tempests, when thun- 
ders roll and lightnings fly, thou lookest in thy beauty 
from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to 
Ossian thou lookest in vain; for he beholds thy beams 
no more, whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern 
clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west. 

But thou art, perhaps, like me, for a season; thy 
years will have an end. Thou wilt sleep in thy clouds, 
careless of the voice of the morning. Exult, then, 
O Sun, in the strength of thy youth — age is dark and 
unlovely; it is like the glimmering light of the moon 
when it shines through broken clouds, and the mist 
is on the hills, the blast of the north is on the plains, 
and the traveler shrinks in the midst of his journey. 



Take Care of No. i. 

I like that expression; I believe in taking care of 
No. i. But then No. 2 should have a chance. I 
can tell you there is considerable work to be done 
in taking care of No. 1. He needs so much looking 
after. If you do not watch him sharp he will eat and 
drink things that he ought not to. He will ruin his 
digestion by eating too much and too fast. He will 
poison himself with tobacco, because he sees some 
other foolish people do so. He will pour into himself 
a fluid that weakens his muscles, shatters his nerves, 
sets his brain on fire, and soon makes a wreck of him 



3 Sermon on Hum* 17 

generally, because some one asks him to. But he 
would not burn his house down if some one asked 
him — not he. Again No. i will neglect to bathe him- 
self for a whole week; he seems to have an antipathy 
to water until he gets used to it. Then he likes it. 

When you get him in the habit of taking good 
care of his body you will not have so much difficulty 
in getting him to take care of his mind, but he needs 
watching in that direction. One of the first things 
he needs to be told is not to read trashy books. He 
will need considerable spurring sometimes before he 
is ready to attack a difficult lesson. 

You will catch him using profane or vulgar expres- 
sions that he heard while in the company of bad boys. 

You will catch him deceiving people sometimes. 

Yes, he will even try to deceive you and make you 
think he means all right when he doesn't. I tell you 
you must keep your eye on No. i. Pin him down 
to the truth every time. You will find him some- 
times trying to take advantage of other people. He 
is terribly inclined to be selfish. He will tell you 
that he is looking out for himself, but he isn't, only 
for the lowest and meanest part of himself. Look 
out for No. 1, I say. 



A Sermon on Rum. 

Brethren: My text is one word — R U M, Rum. 
My first question is, are you empty-headed? If so, 
there is no use talking; but if you have sense, you must 
know that R stands for Rags, Ruin, and Rascality. 

U stands for you — the fellow that is listening, and 
nobody else. I want to ask what you are going to do 
about it. Are you going to do what a lot of other 
fellows want you to do, or will you do as you want to 
do ? Who tells you what to do ? Who is your boss ? 



1 8 ^practical acclamations 

Is it the crowd, the gang, "all the other fellows," or 
is it YOU? 

What does M stand for? That depends on what 
you stand for; it depends on whether you stand at all, 
on your own legs or have to be propped up on some- 
body else's crutches. Yes, it all depends on you 
whether M will stand for Mumbling, Misery, Mendi- 
cancy, and Madness, or for Muscle, Money, and 
Manhood. 



Beware of Alcohol. 

There is a just prejudice against any man engaged 
in the manufacture of alcohol. I do not believe that 
anybody can contemplate the subject without preju- 
dice. All we have to do is to think of the wrecks on 
either side of the stream of death, of the suicides, of 
the insanity, of the poverty, of the destruction, of the 
little children asking weak and despairing wives for 
bread, of men of genius it has wrecked, the men 
struggling with imaginary serpents produced by this 
devilish thing; and when you think of the jails, of the 
almshouses, of the asylums, of the prisons, and of the 
scaffolds on either hand, I do not wonder that every 
thoughtful man is prejudiced against this vile stuff 
called alcohol. 

Intemperance cuts down youth in its vigor, man- 
hood in its strength, and age in its weakness. It 
breaks the father's heart, bereaves the loving mother, 
extinguishes natural affection, and brings premature 
age in sorrow to the grave. It produces weakness, 
sickness, death. It makes wives widows, children 
orphans, fathers fiends, and all paupers. It feeds 
rheumatism, nurses gout, welcomes epidemics, invites 
cholera, pestilence, and consumption. It covers the 
land with misery, idleness, and crime. 



jfun* 19 

It engenders controversies, fosters quarrels, and 
cherishes riots. It crowds the penitentiaries and 
furnishes victims to the scaffold. It incites the father 
to butcher his helpless offspring, and the child to 
grind the parricidal axe. It burns up men, consumes 
women, bribes voters, corrupts elections, pollutes our 
institutions, and endangers the government. It de- 
grades the citizen and dishonors the statesman. It 
brings shame, terror, despair, and misery. It kills 
peace, ruins morals, wipes out national honor, then 
curses the world and laughs at its ruin. It does that 
and more — it murders the soul. It can cause all 
villanies, all crimes. It is the DeviPs best friend, 
and God's worst enemy. Beware of it. 



Fun. 

Boys were made to have fun. What is a boy good 
if he has no fun in him ? Everybody likes fun — or if 
they don't they ought to. "All work and no play makes 
Jack a dull boy." That is as true as a jack-knife! I 
said boys were made for fun. Of course they are! 
Did you ever see a boy that wasn't full of it? — from 
the pegs of his boots to the top of his hat, winning 
over with it? Of course you didn't! A boy is as 
full of fun as a boiler of steam. Do you suppose you 
can keep it all shut in ? I tell you, No ! I tell you it 
must come out! If ever a poor bug, or fly, or anything 
else was to be pitied, so is a boy when the fun is shut 
in. To keep it in is like trying to hold in a steam-engine. 
Many a poor boy has tried it and couldn't do it! If 
you think he could — if you think we can — if you 
think boys can hold in the fun, all I have to say is, I 
wish you were a boy, and then — you'd "know how it is 
yourself !" 



2o practical 2Deciamation& 



Mind Your Business. 

Nine-tenths of all that goes wrong in this world is 
because some one doesn't mind his business. When a 
terrible accident occurs, the first cry is that the means 
of prevention were not sufficient. Everybody declares 
we must have a new patent fire-escape, an automatic 
engine-switch, or a high-proof non-combustible sort 
of lamp-oil. But a little investigation will usually 
show that all the contrivances were on hand, and in 
good order; the real trouble was that somebody 
didn't mind his business; he didn't obey orders; he 
thought he knew a better way than the way he was 
told; he said, "Just this once I'll take the risk," and 
in doing so, he made other people take the risk, too; 
and the risk was too great. 

At Toronto, Canada, not long ago, a conductor, 
against orders, ran his train on a certain siding, which 
resulted in the death of thirty or forty people. 

The engineer of a mill at Rochester, N. Y., thought 
the engine would stand a higher pressure than the 
safety-valve indicated, so he tied a few bricks to the 
valve to hold it down; result: four workmen killed, 
a number wounded, and mill blown to pieces. 

The City of Columbus, an iron vessel fitted out 
with all the means of preservation and escape in use 
on shipboard, was wrecked on the best-known portion 
of the Atlantic coast, on a moonlit night, at the cost 
of one hundred lives, because the officer in command 
took it into his head to save a few ship-lengths in 
distance by hugging the shore, in direct disobedience 
of the captain's parting orders. 

The best-ventilated mine in Colorado was turned 
into a death-trap for half a hundred miners, because 
one of the number entered with a lighted lamp the 
gallery he had been warned against, 



Wqt &imt in tlje CoaUllBin* 21 

Nobody survives to explain the explosion of the 
dynamite cartridge factory in Pennsylvania, but as that 
type of disaster is almost always due to heedlessness, 
it is probable that this instance is not an exception to 
the rule. 

What is most wanted in this world is people that 
will mind their business; all the devices, inventions, 
contrivances, you can shake a stick at won't insure 
safety; the real need is, automatic obedience, patent 
honesty, non- combustible brains, high-proof character. 
Men that can furnish these are in demand. Be sure, 
whatever your disadvantages, however humble your 
present position, your services will not long go a-beg- 
ging if you have that one faculty of minding your busi- 
ness. — WOLSTAN DlXEY. 



The Giant in the Coal-Bin. 

There is one there. Mr. Thomas A. Edison says 
there is. But nobody can find the key that will unlock 
his prison door. Wise men are searching for it every 
day, for it would be a great blessing to have such a 
stout giant about. I mean electricity. That would 
propel all our cars and boats, swiftly and silently, and 
would turn the wheels of all the machinery in our 
great factories. There would be no steam-engines to 
hiss, and roar, and scream; to fill the air with smoke, 
and gas, and cinders; to explode, and crush, and 
scald people. 

There would be no enormous gas-bills to pay; 
the giant could make all the light needed. There 
would be no fires to be built in the morning, no coal 
scuttles for boys to lug, no ashes for girls to sweep 
up; the giant would furnish all the heat needed to 
warm our houses and cook our food. Instead of 



22 practical Declamation^ 

calling Bridget to put on more coal we would simply 
turn on a little more electricity. 

Car-fares would be reduced, and so would the 
whole cost of living. There would be no danger of 
our coal-mines giving out some day and our supply 
of fuel being cut off. 

Who will let the giant out? Perhaps the boy that 
is going to do it is now poring over his philosophy 
lesson. Study hard, boys, especially the chapter on 
electricity, and perhaps you will find the key that 
will open the giant's prison-door. 

— E. L. Benedict. 



Real Power. 

Wealth is power; talent is power, and knowledge 
is power. But there is a mightier force in the world 
than any of these — a power which wealth is not rich 
enough to purchase, nor talent strong enough to 
overcome, nor knowledge wise enough to overreach; 
all these tremble in its presence. It is truth — the 
most potent element in our social and individual life. 
Though tossed upon the billows of popular commo- 
tion, or cast into the seven-fold furnace of persecu- 
tion, or trampled into the dust by the iron heel of 
power, truth is the one indestructible thing in this 
world that loses in no conflict, suffers from no mis- 
usage and abuse, and maintains its vitality and com- 
pleteness after every result. All kinds of conspiracies 
have been exhausted to crush it, and all kinds of 
plans laid to vitiate and poison it; but none has suc- 
ceeded, and none ever will. We can be confident of 
nothing else in this world, but the safety and imperisha- 
bility of truth — for it is part of the Divine nature, and 
invested with the character of its author. It may 
often seem to be in danger; it is as much set upon 



#DtotC£ tO tittle 23 

and assaulted now as ever; but history and experience 
ought to reassure our faith. It has never yet failed, 
and it never will. It has always accomplished its 
end, and always will. We may rest serenely upon it, 
and feel no alarm; we may anticipate its success, and 
enjoy its triumphs in advance. In this struggling 
life, what encouragement and comfort is there in this 
thought — that the man of truth and the course of 
truth have the certainty of success; they cannot fail. 
" Truth crushed to earth will rise again." It cannot 
be put down. 

Advice to Girls. 

Do not give up your studies as soon as you have 
finished school. Do not imagine that the climax is 
reached, and that your store of knowledge is suffi- 
cient to carry you through the world; that because 
you have graduated you have accomplished all you 
can do. You have really only made a beginning, 
and it is now that you are able to make improve- 
ment. 

I would impress upon the minds of every one that 
an hour passed each day in some useful study or 
reading — with the attention riveted upon the matter 
in hand — will do wonders toward keeping your mind 
from stagnation. Perhaps you are pretty, and such a 
favorite in society that you think there is no need of 
cultivating yourself further. Do not be flattered into 
believing this. Let me tell you something. Beauty 
fades. The body yields to disease and decay; but 
a beautiful mind will bring you love, sympathy, and 
respect. Do not, then, as soon as your school-days 
are over, throw aside your books with joy, thinking 
how happy you are "to be done with them"; but 
rather add to your books and your store of knowl- 
edge. 



24 practical 2Deciamatton& 

The languages, the sciences, literature, the arts, all 
invite. If your school work has been well done, you 
must have developed a taste for something. Spend 
therefore a little time each day in vigorous mental 
discipline and your friends will have reason to admire 
you. 



What an Enemy Does for You. 

An enemy will keep you wide awake. He does 
not let you sleep at your post. There are two that 
always keep watch, namely, the lover and the hater. 
Your lover watches that you may sleep. Your hater 
watches that you may not sleep. He stirs you up 
when you are napping. He keeps your faculties on 
the alert. Even when he does nothing he will have 
put you in such a state of mind that you cannot tell 
what he will do next, and this mental qui vive is worth 
everything to you. 

An enemy will watch your friends. You need to 
know who your friends are, and who are not. When 
your enemy goes to one who is neither your friend 
nor your enemy, and assails you, the indifferent one 
will have nothing to say, or chime in, not because he 
is your enemy, but because it is so much easier to 
assent than to oppose, and especially than to refute. 
But your friend will take up cudgels for you on the 
instant. He will deny everything, and insist on 
proof, and proving is very hard work. There is not a 
truthful man in the world that could afford to under- 
take to prove one-tenth of all his assertions. Your 
friend will call your enemy to the proof, and if the 
indifferent person, through carelessness, repeats the 
assertions of your enemy, he is soon made to feel the 
inconvenience thereof by the zeal your friend mani- 
fests. Follow your enemy around and you will find 



& Wops troubles* 25 

your friends, for he will have developed them so that 
they cannot be mistaken. The next best thing to 
having a hundred real friends is to have one open 
enemy. — Rev. Dr. Deems. 



A Boy's Troubles. 

What troubles the boy has! Poor fellow! He is 
born to evil and needs a multitude of corrections. He 
is spanked in the cradle, flogged at school, and licked 
by every bigger boy. He can appeal to no board of 
pardons. No tender-hearted governor, figuring for 
re-election, overlooks his misdeeds. The adminis- 
tration has no need of him or his influence. 

He is told: "Do not be out late and do not eat 
indigestible things.' ' But he does and suffers from 
dyspepsia. 

"Take care of your teeth " is one of the regulations. 
But if nobody looks the foolish boy lets his teeth take 
care of themselves. So he is sentenced to lose half of 
them and fined many dollars, to be paid over to the 
nearest dentist. 

"Do not bite on that broken tooth," he is told. But 
the boy tries it just to see what will happen, and 
instantly he gets such a pain in his jaw that makes 
him think he has been hit by a thunderbolt. 

" Do not run through that wet grass in your slippers/ ' 
is shouted to him from the upstairs window. But 
when the w T indow is closed he skips across the lawn, 
thinking no one can see him, and for this he is doubled 
up with rheumatism for years, and tortured all the 
rest of his life. 

He plays lawn-tennis until he steams from every 
pore. Then he hastens to refresh himself with a glass 
of clear cold ice- water. "Do not drink that ice-water; 
it will kill you." He will not believe that, and drinks 



26 practical acclamation^ 

it. Often the sentence is immediately carried into 
execution. Sometimes the execution is preceded by 
hours or days of fearful agony, to teach him that 
these commands are not to be trifled with. 

He is told that going to school is essential; but he 
doesn't fancy it and plays " hookey," and then gets a 
third-rate position in life. 

He is told to leave the Indian literature alone, but 
he disobeys and goes around with a pumpkin on his 
shoulders instead of a sound head. In short, he 
needs line upon line, and good advice by the barrelful. 



The Rights of Animals. 

If there be any oppressed class that ought to have a 
convention and pass resolutions asserting their share 
in the general forward movement going on in this 
world, it is the animals — that class that can neither 
speak, read nor write. 

How many men are there who do not consider that 
they have a right to chase, hunt, and terrify wild animals 
in their native forests, simply for the excitement of 
mind and exercise it gives? The agony of terror 
excited by the chase, the victim's turnings and wind- 
ings and frantic doublings upon its track, are all part 
of the interest and excitement of the sport. Is this 
a Christian or heathen state of mind ? I ask you. 

Supposing that man, being the nobler creature, 
has a right to prolong his existence by taking the 
life of animals, does it follow that he should make an 
amusement of shooting or trapping them in circum- 
stances when he does not want them for food, and 
where the sole motive is the excitement? 

The English lion-hunter goes to South Africa to 
shoot every animal he meets, no matter what — lion, 
tiger, ostrich, giraffe or rhinoceros. He is thought 



£ potent SDragoit* 27 

clever when his shot changes a splendid, joyous 
specimen of animal life into a festering mass of putres- 
cence! But though it manifest cleverness it shows 
inhumanity. 

Every man ought to ask himself on what is my 
right to this piece of my Creator's handiwork founded ? 
And, if not a sparrow falleth to the ground without 
His notice, is it not likely that He may have some 
feeling about animals that are worth many sparrows? 
Is it generous for a man to seize a horse, to use and 
appropriate his whole youth and strength, and then, 
in old age, tarde him off for some petty sum, and 
never inquire what becomes of him? Is it a noble 
act to steal upon the hardworking beaver and destroy 
him? Is it a worthy act to follow the harmless deer 
with dogs and finally put an end to his beautiful life ? 

No; let us curb this desire to destroy animal life 
that enjoys the world so much; let us put ourselves 
in their places; let us treat them as we would like to be 
treated. — H. B. Stowe. 



A Modern Dragon. 

In olden times when a flood or an earthquake, or any 
other great disaster destroyed human life and property, 
it was charged to be the work of a great dragon. Many 
stories are told about heroes who went out and killed 
those dragons, and thus saved the lives of their country- 
men; in fact, great books have been written about 
such men. Now, there is actually a dragon in the 
world to-day that is destroying thousands of human 
lives and millions of dollars worth of property every 
year. He seizes bright, handsome boys and changes 
them into the sallow, shrunken loafers that lounge 
about the streets and saloons with their mouths full of 
tobacco juice and vile oaths. He changes the prosper- 



28 practical 2Deciamatton& 

ous young man into the ragged, filthy drunkard; the 
kind husband and father into the biute who beats his 
wife and chlidren to death. He takes away from 
men their hard-earned money, and leaves their wives 
and children to starve. He causes them to commit 
all manner of crimes. There is no end to the terrible 
deeds of this Dragon. All over the world people 
are praying to be delivered from him. The man who 
could succeed in killing him would receive the grati- 
tude of the whole world. Quite an army of people 
have enlisted to fight this Dragon, but have not got 
the best of him yet; there is not enough of them to 
kill him yet. Who will enlist to fight this Dragon? 
— the Dragon of Strong Drink. 



Your Father and Your Mother. 

Young America has some very queer ways, one is 
the names he gives to certain of his relations, such as 
"the governor," "the old man," "the old woman," 
"her highness." Who are these people that he speaks 
of in such a would-be-funny way ? Why, they are the 
ones who have worked hard for years, that he might 
have an easy time, who have worn blue jean and 
eaten johnny cake, that he might wear broadcloth and 
dine expensively. They are, of all people in the 
world, the ones whom he ought to delight to honor. 
They are his father and mother. What do you sup- 
pose is the reason he doesn't call them so? Perhaps 
it is because he is ashamed of them. Perhaps their 
grammar is a little crooked, but it sounds better than 
his slang. Their manners may be a little stiff and 
old-fashioned, but does his rowdyism make him ap- 
pear any better ? Ah ! Master Young America, I fear 
you have some foolish notions in your head. I fear 
those notions are in the place where your common 



JBt tlUnselfistK 29 

sense ought to be. I don't ask you to take any 
advice from me; but I must tell you that you should 
be proud of that trembling mother who has spent her 
strength in caring for you. If you do not cherish 
them in their declining years you are not worthy of 
the loving parents who tenderly cared for you in your 
helpless infancy. 



Be Unselfish. 

We all have noticed people of whom we would 
never think of asking a favor. They appear pleasant, 
and friendly, and sometimes make presents to their 
friends; but let them be called upon to make some 
sacrifice, ask them to do something that gives them 
a little trouble, and we will find that they are not as 
unselfish as they seemed. If they comply at all, it 
is with such a very bad grace that we never ask them 
again. We thus find that their own ease is of more 
importance to them than others' comfort, their own 
enjoyment than others' pleasure. Such always remind 
one of Scrooge. You remember Scrooge, that " squeez- 
ing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous 
old sinner." I think the worst thing Dickens said of 
him was that "no children asked him what o'clock 
it was; no man or woman once in all his fife inquired 
the way to such and such a place of Scrooge." You 
remember it was the cold within that froze his features. 

It is the lack of kindness within that makes the 
unhappy appearance without. When there is sun- 
shine in the heart it will stream out — there is no keeping 
it in. Look at the unselfish boy. If grandma leaves 
her specs upstairs, he runs to get them before he is 
asked. When father wants the paper, he knows 
just who is ready to go for it. Mother does not have 
tQ hire him to do her errands ; no one asks of him but 



30 practical acclamations 

once for anything that is in his power to do. Do 
you ask, what is his reward? Well he doesn't ask 
any — he is satisfied with the pleasure it gives him to 
help people. 

It is worth something to us to know that people are 
glad to have us come, sorry to have us go, and remem- 
ber us in love and gratitude when we are away. It 
is unselfishness, (thinking of and helping others) that 
makes the world worth living in; the heroes of the 
world are those that thought of others. 



South Carolina and Massachusetts. 

When I shall be found, sir, here in my place in the 
Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because 
it happened to spring up beyond the little limits of my 
own State or neighborhood; when I refuse, for any 
such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to Ameri- 
can talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion 
to liberty and the country; or, if I see an uncommon 
endowment of Heaven, — if I see extraordinary capacity 
and virtue in any son of the South, — and if, moved by 
local prejudice, or gangrened by State jealousy, I get 
up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his just char- 
acter and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the 
roof of my mouth! Sir, let me remind you that, in 
early times, no States cherished greater harmony, both 
of principle and feeling than Massachusetts and South 
Carolina. Shoulder to shoulder they went through 
the Revolution; hand in hand they stood round the 
administration of Washington, and felt his own great 
arm lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it 
exist, alienation, and distrust, — are the growth, un- 
natural to such soils, of false principles since sown. 
They are weeds, the seeds of which that same great 
arm never scattered. — Daniel Webster, 



Wqt if ante of ^asfymgton* 3 1 



The Fame of Washington. 

We have been told many times that Washington was 
not a genius, but a person of excellent common sense, 
of admirable judgment, of rare virtues. Genius we 
have been led to suppose to be the peculiar and shining 
attribute of some orator whose tongue can spout 
patriotic speeches, or some versifier whose muse can 
write "Hail Columbia," but not of the man who sup- 
ported the States on his arm, and carried America 
in his brain. The brilliant Charles Townsend, the 
motion of whose pyrotechnic mind was like the whiz 
of a hundred rockets, was a man of genius; but George 
Washington, raised above the level of even eminent 
statesman, and with a nature moving with the still 
and orderly celerity of a planet round the sun, dwindles 
in comparison into a kind of angelic dunce. By what 
definition do we award the name to the author of an 
epic, and deny it to the creator of a country? By 
what principle is it to be lavished upon him who 
sculptures in perishing marble the image of possible 
excellence, and withheld from him who built up in 
himself a transcendent character, indestructible as 
the obligations of duty and beautiful as her rewards? 
He belongs to that rare class of men who are broad 
enough to include all the facts of a people's practical 
life, and deep enough to discern the spiritual laws which 
animate and govern those facts. 

Caesar was merciful, Scipio was a master of self, 
Hannibal was patient; but it was reserved for Wash- 
ington to blend them all in one, and, like the lovely 
masterpiece of the Grecian artist, to exhibit, in one 
glow of associated beauty, the pride of every model 
and the perfection of every master. A conqueror, he 
was untainted with the crime of blood; a revolution- 
ist, he was free from any stain of treason; for aggres- 



32 practical Exclamations* 

sion commenced the contest, and his country called 
him to the command. Liberty unsheathed his sword, 
necessity stained, victory returned it. 

If he had paused there, history might have doubted 
what station to assign him; whether at the head of her 
citizens, or her soldiers, her heroes, or her patriots. 
But the last glorious act crowns his career and banishes 
all hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having 
emancipated a hemisphere, resigned its crown and pre- 
ferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration 
of a land he might be almost said to have created? 

Just honor to Washington can only be rendered by 
observing his precepts and imitating his example. 
He has built his own monument. We and those who 
came after us, in successive generations, are its ap- 
pointed, its privileged guardians. The widespread 
republic is the future monument to Washington. 
Maintain its independence. Uphold its constitution. 
Preserve its union. Defend its liberty. Let it stand 
before the world in all its original strength and beauty, 
securing peace, order, equality, and freedom, to all 
within its boundaries, and shedding light and hope and 
joy upon the pathway of human liberty throughout 
the world — and Washington needs no other monu- 
ment. Other structures may fully testify our venera- 
tion for him; this, this alone can adequately illustrate 
his services to mankind. 



The Indian to the White Man. 

"White man, there is eternal war between me and 
thee! I quit not the land of my fathers, but with my 
life. In those woods, where I bent my youthful bow, I 
will still hunt the deer; over yonder waters I will still 
glide, unrestrained, in my bark canoe. By those 
dashing waterfalls I will still lay up my winter store 



W$z 3Inaian to ttje Wtytz span* 33 

of food; on the fertile meadows I will still plant my 
corn. 

" Stranger, the land is mine! I understand not these 
paper rights. I gave not my consent, when, as thou 
sayest, these broad regions were purchased, for a few 
baubles, of my fathers. They could sell what was 
theirs ; they could sell no more. How could my father 
sell that which the Great Spirit sent me into the world 
to live upon ? They knew not what they did. 

"The stranger came, a timid suppliant, — few and 
feeble, and asked to lie down on the red man's bear- 
skin, and warm himself at the red man's fire, and have 
a little piece of land to raise corn for his women and 
children; and now he is become strong, and mighty, 
and bold, and spreads out his parchment over the 
whole and says, 'It is mine.' 

"Stranger, there is not room for us both. The 
Great Spirit has not made us to live together. There 
is poison in the white man's cup; the white man's 
dog barks at the red man's heels. If I should leave 
the land of my fathers whither shall I fly ? Shall I go 
to the south and dwell among the graves of the Pequots ? 
Shall I wander to the west ? There the fierce Mohawk, 
the man-eater, is my foe. Shall I fly to the east? The 
great water is before me. No, stranger; here I have 
lived, and here will I die; and here if thou abidest, 
there will be eternal war between us. 

"Thou hast taught me thy arts of destruction; for 
that alone I thank thee. And now take heed to thy 
steps; the red man is thy foe. When thou goest forth 
by day, my bullet shall whistle past thee; when thou 
liest down by night, my knife is at thy throat. The 
noonday sun shall not discover thy enemy, and the 
darkness of midnight shall not protect thy rest. Thou 
shalt plant in terror, and will reap in blood; thou shalt 
sow the earth with corn, and I w T ill strew it with ashes; 
thou shalt go forth with the sickle, and I will follow 



34 practical acclamations 

after with the scalping-knife; thou shalt build, and I 
will burn, — till the white man or the Indian perish from 
the land. Go thy way for this time in safety, — but 
remember, stranger, there is eternal war between thee 
and me" — Edward Everett. 



The Battle of Saratoga* 

Often do the spirits 
Of great events stride on before the events, 
And in to-day already walks to-morrow. 

— Coleridge. 

"How much depended upon the courage and skill of 
that perilous hour! How wide and far-reaching are 
the results. That army which left the shores of Eng- 
land with so much prestige and pride, and supercilious 
vaunting, was here discomfited upon the 7th of Octo- 
ber, and upon the 17th it capitulated in humiliation. 

"The centuries come and go, but such great events 
live forever. They live because they are mementoes of 
noble effort. The grand idea behind Saratoga was 
Independence. The Americans fought not for liberty. 
They never lost their liberties. They fought because 
their liberties, their English and colonial privileges, 
their rights (won by dearly waged contests), and their 
natural and just demands were disregarded and out- 
raged by a despicable tyrant. 

"Saratoga was the wand that \ smote the rock of the 
national resources.' It was the magic that revived the 
'dead corpse of public credit.' 

"It was this battle that led to an alliance with the 
French. It made possible, a hundred years afterward, 
through French art and genius, that lofty effigy for New 
York Harbor, of Liberty lifting up her torch beckoning 
and illuminating all mankind by its radiancy. 



W\)M to (BxpttU 35 

"The surrender at Saratoga was not merely the sur- 
render of Burgoyne and his army; it was the surrender 
of a haughty prince and an obsequious and corrupt 
parliament to thirteen weak and remote colonies. It 
was the most conspicuous step in that grand march of 
events — events so extraordinary and unexpected, that 
the English historian, Stedman, says they bade ' de- 
fiance to all human foresight.' It was a beginning 
which found its consummation at Yorktown. It was 
the flower of that tree which gave us our matchless 
Constitution as its final fruit.'' 



What to Expect. 



The person who lives in this world must not expect 
too much, or he will be disappointed. Don't expect 
that every man will agree with you on the weather, 
or that he will vote for your candidate for constable 
or congress; perhaps he won't agree to like your kind 
of religion; don't expect him to. If you lend a man a 
shovel, don't expect him to lend you his wheelbarrow. 
Every man that you help must not be expected to help 
you in return. Don't think every man who wears an 
old coat is a thief; don't think every man who talks 
well will do as he says. 

You must expect to meet mean men; you must 
expect there will be as many frauds this year as last, 
perhaps more; you must expect to meet idiots; you 
must expect to have corns on your feet if you will 
wear shoes two sizes too small for them; you must 
expect some one to tread on those corns if you go into 
a crowd. If you raise watermelons you must expect 
some will be stolen — plant enough to cover that loss, 
is my advice. 

You must expect to see respectable men block up 
the sidewalk if two dogs get to fighting. And if a 



36 practical SDeciamattontf* 

man has a spavined horse, that's the one he will trade 
off to you, and not his best one. You must expect to 
see children that have good fathers and mothers turn 
out big rascals, and also that some who have lived in 
the gutter will shine like jewels. 

You will find that men you expect little from some- 
times do better than they look. Expect to find some- 
thing good and you will very likely be disappointed; 
expect to find something bad and you may be disap- 
pointed, too. That rough-looking fellow is a good 
deal better than he appears; that nice, smooth-spoken 
man may be dreadfully cross to his wife. 

Expect to have the malaria, and to take pills and cas- 
tor-oil, and quinine; expect to have a man who owes 
you money refuse to pay it; and, finally, don't expect 
a man who speaks on the stage to do it as well as you 
could yourself. 



Determine Not to Drink. 

The true way is never to begin the use of strong 
drink. You think you are strong, but you do not know 
how weak you are. If you begin you may never be 
able to stop. The very fact that you do not refuse now 
shows that you are weak. Every time you yield to 
temptation you grow weaker; just as your appetite 
grows stronger you will grow weaker and become less 
able to stop. It will never again be so easy to stop as 
now. If you are invited in company to drink give a 
polite, but a decided refusal. Every one present will 
respect you for it, no matter what they say. You will 
be stronger yourself, and some one may be influenced 
by you. Have the courage to say "I do not drink." 
Let your clear eye and honest expression show that 
you mean just what you say. If any one taunt you 
with your cowardice, tell him that he is afraid to be 



d5oofc ^abtt& 37 

independent, while you are not, and that you do not 
choose to join the ranks of those who go down into 
drunkards' graves 60,000 strong in this country every 
year. 



Good Habits. 

Habits of temperance, economy, truthfulness, hon- 
esty, generosity, once thoroughly engrafted upon the 
life of an individual, will assist him to accomplish 
what years of seeking and effort without them would 
fail to produce. They will open wide for him the 
gates of success, of honor, of respect, of affection, 
through which so many seek in vain to enter. After 
constant and intelligent culture, they work spontane- 
ously and almost unconsciously; they form a founda- 
tion on which to build, without fear of overthrow; all 
the finest traits of excellence come from good habits; 
they prepare the way for virtue and for goodness. 
They last till the day of death. They go with one 
and are an aid to him on all occasions. They beautify 
the plain, they adorn even the unattractive. Good 
habits are a fortune to him that has them and worthy 
of all the labor they cost. 



The True Girl. 

Listen to me, young men all. The true girl has to 
be sought for. She does not parade herself as show- 
goods. She is not fashionable. Generally, she is not 
rich. But oh, what a heart she has when you find 
her! So large and pure and womanly. When you 
see it you wonder if those other showy things are 
really women. If you gain her love, your two thou- 
sand will become millions. She'll not ask you for a 



38 practical H>*damation& 

carriage or a first-class house. She'll wear simple 
dresses, and turn them when necessary with no painful 
feelings and no frown in the ceremony. Shell keep 
everything neat and nice in your kitchen and parlor, 
and give you such a welcome when you come home 
that your house will look lovelier than ever. She'll 
make you love home unless you're a brute, and teach 
you how to pity, while you scorn, that so-called "fash- 
ionable society" that may know it is rich, but vainly 
tries to think itself happy. Throw away that cigar, 
burn that switch cane, seek a wife in a sensible way; 
seek one that is sensible; remember, there are many 
who lack common sense and live for show; these you 
will avoid ; select a true woman and your days will be 
happy. 



Pride of Ancestry. 

If you want to be somebody in the world, you must 
begin to be somebody. If you have a family-tree that 
reaches to the stars, draw your pen through every name 
on the record until you have come to your own, and 
stand squarely on that. A grand old ancestry is a 
splendid thing to have, and a grandfather is something 
to be proud of. But your own ancestors won't make 
you great. Queen Victoria traces her blood back to 
William the Conqueror; she can't help it. She isn't 
to blame for it, nor does she deserve any particular 
credit for it. Such a woman as Victoria reflects honor 
upon her ancestors — her pure womanhood would honor 
them though she never were a monarch — but her 
ancestors never did her any great honor. You can 
only trace your ancestry back to your father; but 
your father is a better man, a better Christian, wears 
better clothes, lives in a better house, has more luxu- 



prtDe of &nce$tr^ 39 

ries and conveniences in life than did William the 
Conqueror. 

If you assert yourself, that is all the world asks of 
you. If the world has work for you to do, if it wants 
you and needs you, it isn't going to hunt up your 
family-tree. Who asked about Lincoln's ancestors? 
Who stopped to ascertain if Grant's family came over 
in the Mayflower? 

What great-grandfather invented the telephone? 
Your neighbor will question more closely the pedigree 
of a blooded horse, or the milk cow you want to sell 
him than he will your own. 

When I hear a man talking much about his ancestors, 
I begin to think he needs them very much. And I 
always feel sorry for a man who lives only in the deeds 
and words of his great-grandfather. I have known 
some men who were very proud of their ancestors, 
whose ancestors would have been most dismally 
ashamed of them. 

Pride of ancestry! It is dust under your feet com- 
pared with pride of posterity. Don't waste your pride 
on your ancestors. Save it for your posterity. They 
will be in better circumstances and live in better times. 
While your ancestors came over in the Mayflower, a 
leaky old tub of a sailing vessel, that landed the pil- 
grims and then went straight away for a cargo of slaves 
to land in the West Indies, your child wall go across in 
a Cunarder, first cabin, faring sumptuously, and only 
ten days out. 

It is enough for you, my friend, to know that your 
ancestors were good, brave, honest, hardworking 
Christian men and women. For the rest of it, try to 
live your own life and live it so that you will honor 
them and add new luster to their good names. Let 
no one try to " boost" himself up in the world on what 
his ancestors did long before he was born. Do some- 
thing yourself. — R. J. Burdette. 



4o jpraxtttai Exclamations 



Make Friends. 

Make all the friends you can. Do not play the 
demagogue, but make friends. Do not have an enemy 
in the world if you can honestly avoid it. Any friend 
is a good thing to have, even if it is a friendly neighbor's 
dog. Do not fawn, or bend your self-respect, or sacri- 
fice a principle, but act on the rule that it is your duty — 
a God-required duty — to produce all the happiness 
in the world of which you are capable. What will 
the result be? First, that you will be happier and 
better yourself. A man who is all the time trying 
to do good very rapidly grows to be a very good man. 

Secondly, it will give you business success and 
promotion. A young man who has cultivated the 
friend-making spirit and manner is a treasure to any 
business-house ; and if in business for himself it gives 
him a great advantage over competitors. There is a 
class of young men who are so fortunately situated in 
life that they do not feel the necessity for personal 
popularity, and yet it is as highly important and desira- 
ble to them as to any others. It is important as vastly 
increasing their influence for good. 

It is desirable because in a country of free institu- 
tions, like ours, the choicest minds are not content 
with success in business and the accumulation of 
wealth. There are honors and pleasures of the most 
exquisite quality which wealth can no more purchase 
than it can purchase heaven. Let a man win such a 
place in the confidence and affection of the public that 
his fellow- citizens will, in emergencies, turn to him as 
to a tower of strength, and ask the use of his name for 
a position of honor and trust. Though such a man 
may be unwilling to accept political office, he may find 
it not only his duty to do, but he will have plucked 
the brightest and sweetest flower of earthly happiness. 



2Don't WUnt. 41 

Make friends for your own better nature's sake; 
make friends for your friends' sake; make friends for 
the extension of your influence for good; make friends 
for the good of your fellow-citizens and your country. 
It cannot be done in a day. A man must make a good 
friend to others before he can make good friends 0} 
others. 



Don't Whine. 

Don't be whining about not having a fair chance. 
The more you have to begin with, the less you will 
have in the end. Money you earn for yourself is much 
brighter than any you get out of dead men's bags. 
A scant breakfast in the morning of life will give 
you an appetite for a feast later in the day. He 
who has tasted a sour apple will have the more relish 
for a sweet one. Your present want will make future 
prosperity all the sweeter. Eighteen : pence has set 
up many a pedlar in business, and he has turned it 
over until he has kept his carriage. As for the place 
you are cast in, don't find fault with that; you need 
not be a horse because you were born in a stable. A 
hardworking young man with his wits about him will 
make money while others will do nothing but lose it. 

Who loves his work and knows how to spare, 
May live and flourish anywhere. 

As to a little trouble, who expects to find cherries 
without stones, or roses without thorns? Who would 
win must learn to bear? The dog in the kennel 
barks at fleas, the hunting-dog does not even know 
that they are there. Laziness waits till the river is 
dry, and never gets to market. "Try" swims it, 
arid makes all the trade. "CanH do it" would not 
eat the bread cut for him, but "Try" made meat out 
of mushrooms. . 



42 practical acclamations. 

Push. 

We frequently see at the entrance of a building the 
word "Push" on the door. It means that if you want 
to enter you must push the door open; you are not to 
ring a bell and wait till some one comes to let you in. 
You must push your way in. That is the word that is 
on the door of the house of Success. If you would have 
success in anything you must push your way to it. 
Look at the successful business man. We all admire 
him. He is of importance in the world. He has some- 
thing to do and he does it. If things get in his way, he 
pushes them out. If the market is dull and his business 
comes to a standstill, he pushes it along. He doesn't 
wait for Luck to come along and give him a lift. She 
doesn't usually give lifts to those who stand back wait- 
ing for her; she helps those who help themselves. Boys 
if you have a hard lesson to learn, don't sit back and 
wait for some one to come along and help you, if you 
do, you'll find the next one just as hard, but push your 
way through it. Every push you give makes you 
stronger to push again. If you want to occupy an 
honorable place in the world you must push your way 
to it — then you can look back over your life with a feel- 
ing of satisfaction. 



Advice to Girls. 

You have listened to the senseless prattle of addle- 
headed young men who have complimented you on 
your good looks until the best impulses of your nature 
are stifled; and unless these are revived by the applica- 
tion of common sense, they will become extinct. What 
purpose in life do you think you are serving? You 
spend half your time in attempts to improve your per- 



#Dbtce to «0trl& 43 

sonal appearance. You wish to attract the attention 
and admiration of people who lack brains, and are 
unable to appreciate the good and the useful. Some 
young men may admire you, but that is because they 
don't know any better. 

You distort your body into an unnatural shape. 
You sleep by day in a darkened room when you should 
be out getting fresh air and sunshine. You spend the 
nights at parties with your tight harness on, breathing 
polluted air and overtaxing your physical system. You 
feed that body of yours on cake and pastry. You feed 
your mind on stories abounding in mawkish sentimen- 
tality, and the consequence of all this is that both body 
and mind have no solid development. 

What are you living for ? What return are you mak- 
ing for the labor that must put food in your mouth and 
clothes on your back. You are striving by all the arts 
in your power to entangle some young man in the 
meshes of your charms, and to blind his good sense and 
better judgment so that he will take you for his wife. 
He marries you expecting that he has obtained a help- 
meet and he finds that you are only a help-eat. 

Suppose that you cost him more than you produce 
for him, or can save for him, six hundred dollars per 
year. This sum represents the interest at six per cent, 
per annum on ten thousand dollars, therefore it is plain 
that when he married you, he virtually incurred a debt 
of ten thousand dollars. 

The expense of maintaining your useless existence 
will make your husband lose his manhood and all the 
higher principles of his nature in the mad effort to win 
money, which is the only thing that can satisfy your 
wants. He may become a sharp scoundrel and escape 
the penitentiary, and he may meet the fate of thousands 
of others, by dying in middle age, finding in death the 
rest and peace he failed to find while living. 

Young lady of the period, there is yet a chance for 



44 practical acclamations 

you to reform. Be not ashamed to admit that you can 
broil a steak as well as pound out a difficult piece of 
music on the piano. Be prepared to work in the field 
of life. Make yourself a true woman in the highest 
sense. Then will your days be long in the land and joy 
and happiness be your portion. 



Work or Spoil. 

When this round world was completed, it was very 
wisely left so that those who were to live upon it. must 
work or spoil. For a while, at first, many chose to live 
easily and idly, but soon began to spoil so that the 
parents spoiled the children, who, as they grew up 
spoiled each other, until they all became men of moral 
corruption and were swept away by the flood. After 
that they undertook to build a town of safety in case of 
another flood, with its base on the earth and its top in 
the sky; but confusion spoiled their speech, and 
scattered them all over the earth to study the new lan- 
guages and in every possible way, work with body and 
mind to benefit one another and honor the Creator; 
doing this rightly, humanity rises, the world advances 
in what is good, and becomes better and happier as 
time rolls on. 

Education is a process to fit us for the work of life, 
and the better our education is the better fitted we shall 
be; there is much to be done, and we must learn the 
best way of doing it. Brain work begins early in life 
as the eyes open to see what is in sight, and hand- work 
follows as the muscles grow. Here within us are 
mental and moral powers to be developed by study 
and exercise. The best of books and teachers cannot 
make us intelligent or wise without our personal appli- 
cation, but after a while, this very work of spirit-cul- 



Capital* 45 

ture and control becomes a pleasure too inviting to be 
easily given up. 

To be able to read is at first a victory gained that 
taxed the little one, but delights the young learner as 
the key that unlocks the doors of the past : the acquired 
ability to solve problems that at first could not be 
understood, stimulates to another step in advance of 
what could be done before, and so, on and upward the 
scholar loves to go in gaining ability to walk in the fields 
of thought, and accomplish victory in the world of 
mind, instead of leaving the mind to be sluggish and 
dull, and the moral powers to drift downward to ruin 
and death. Here is the work to be done by all who 
think or speak. 

On every farm and in every house or shop, there is 
work to be done that calls for skill and contrivance, by 
educated minds, with the advantage of science, so as to 
chime in harmony with natural ideas. While there are 
continents to cultivate, mountains to level, great valleys 
to build up, with streams to bridge, and with places to 
reform into gardens of civilization, let no one say there 
is " nothing to do." 

There is work everywhere to be done — work for all! 
Parents must train their children for the better work 
that they may be capable of doing in a worthy life; 
children must do what they can to educate themselves 
for the trials and labors of life; so that this life shall 
be a blessing, pleasant to review at its close, and a 
good preparation for the life to come. 



Capital. 



A man must have capital before he can start in any 
business, if it is nothing more than keeping a peanut- 
stand. The capital need not always be money; it may 
be brains, a sound education, a trade or profession, or 



46 practical 2Deciamatton& 

it may be nothing but a stock of energy for any kind of 
honest labor. Either of these are good capitals. The 
world wants young men who know how to do some- 
thing, and can do it well. There is always a demand 
for good lawyers, good physicians, teachers, butchers, 
bakers, or candlestick-makers; but there is none for the 
lazy young man who only knows how to part his hair in 
the middle or dance the latest waltz step, whose stock 
of information extends only to the latest style in tailor- 
ing, or the latest race or prize-fight. These are the 
young men that are always complaining of the world, 
who find nothing in life worth living for. They are dis- 
satisfied with everything and everybody, themselves in- 
cluded, and it is no wonder. They have nothing to 
be satisfied with; they are bankrupt young men; they 
have no capital. 



How to Get Him. 

The first thing is to catch your lover. When you 
have him, hold him. Don't let go of him to catch 
every new one that comes along. Try to get pretty 
well acquainted with him before you take him for life. 
Unless you intend to support him, find out whether 
he earns enough to support you. Don't make up your 
mind that he is an angel. Don't palm yourself off on 
him as one either. Don't let him spend his money on 
you buying presents. Let him keep his money till after 
marriage; he will need it. If you have conscientious 
scruples against marrying a man with a mother, say so 
in time, that he may get rid of her to oblige you, or 
get rid of you to oblige her, as he thinks best. If 
you object to sceret societies and tobacco, it is better to 
come out with your objections now than to reserve 
them for curtain lectures hereafter. Be very sure it 
is the man you are in love with and not the clothes he 



& £>ermon* 47 

wears. Fortune and fashion are both so fickle it is 
foolish to take a stylish suit of clothes for the better or 
the worse. If you have a love letter to write don't copy 
it out of a " Letter Writer.'' If your young man ever 
happened to consult the same book he would know 
your sentiments were borrowed. Don't marry a man 
to oblige any third person in existence. It is your 
right to suit yourself in the matter. But remember 
at the same time that love is blind, and a little friendly 
advice from one whose advice is worth having may 
insure you a lifetime of happiness or prevent one of 
misery. 

Ii love affairs always keep your eyes wide open, so 
that when the right man comes along you may see him. 
When you do see him you will recognize him, and the 
recognition will be mutual. If you have no fault to 
find with him personally, financially, conscientiously, 
socially, morally, politically, religiously, or any other 
way, he is probably perfect enough to suit you, and you 
can afford to — Believe in him; Hope in him; Love him; 
and Marry him! 



A Sermon. 

My text on this occasion is as follows: 

Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, 

To get her poor dog a bone: 
But when she got there, the cupboard was bare 

And so the poor dog got none. 

"Mother Hubbard, you see, was old, yet did she 
despair? Did she sit down and weep, or read a novel, 
or wring her hands? No? she went to the cupboard. 
And why did she go to the cupboard ? Was it to bring 
forth golden goblets, or glittering precious stones or 
costly apparel, or any other attributes of wealth? It 



48 practical acclamations 

was to get her poor dog a bone. Not only was the widow 
poor, but her dog, the sole prop of her age, was poor, 
too. We can imagine the scene. The poor dog, 
crouching in the corner, looking wistfully at the solitary 
cupboard, and the widow going to that cupboard — in 
hope, and in expectation. 

"And how was the noble effort rewarded? 

" ' The cupboard was bare!' Yes, it was bare! 
There w T ere to be found neither oranges, cheesecakes, 
nor penny buns, nor gingerbread, nor crackers, nor 
nuts, nor lucifer matches. The cupboard was bare! 
Had there been a leg of mutton, a loin of lamb, a fillet 
of veal, the case would have been different. 

"Many of you will probably say, that 'the widow 
should have gone out and bought her dog a biscuit.' 
Others would doubtless suggest other eatables. Suffice 
it for us to glean from this beautiful story its many 
lessons, one of which I will bring before you; it is 
this: We must avoid keeping dogs unless we have 
bones to give them." 



Strive for the Best. 

Thirty years ago a boy was struggling through the 
snow of Chenango Valley, trying to hire himself to a 
blacksmith. He succeeded, and learned his trade; 
but did more. He took it in his head that he could 
make a better hammer than any other man had made. 
He devoted himself to the task for more than a quarter 
of a century. He studied the chemistry of metals, the 
strength of materials, the philosophy of form. He 
studied failures. Each broken hammer taught him 
a lesson. There was no part of the progress that he 
did not master. He taxed his wits to invent machines 
to perfect and cheapen his processes. No improve- 
ment in working steel and iron escaped his notice. 



©aieDittorE* 49 

What may not twenty-five years of effort accomplish 
when concentrated on a single object? He earned 
success; and now his name is stamped on a steel 
hammer, it is his note, his bond, his integrity em- 
bodied in steel. The spirit of the man is in each 
hammer, and the work, like the workman, is unrivaled. 
While I was there, looking through his shop, with 
all its admirable arrangement of tools and machinery, 
there came to him a large order from China. The 
merchants of the Celestial Kingdom had sent down 
to the little town, where the persistent blacksmith now 
lives in affluence, to get the best that Anglo-Saxon 
skill had accomplished in the hammer business. It 
is no small achievement to do one thing better than 
any other man in the world has done it. 

— James A. Garfield. 



Valedictory. 



Our yesterdays are mighty. The world to-day 
prides itself on what it is, not stopping to think that 
it owes what it is to what it has been. The civiliza- 
tion of Egypt, Greece, and Rome is the basis of our 
civilization and the source of our knowledge. 

On the ruins of the past 
Blooms the perfect flower at last. 

He who despises the attainments of yesterday little 
realizes that it is from them we learn lessons of w T isdom 
for the future. From all the ages the great departed 
are warning us to avoid the errors which marked the 
mighty kingdom of the past. Yesterday is irreparable 
but not lost. We live and we die; but the good or the 
evil that we do lives after us, and is not buried with 
our bones. The yesterday of existence is mirrored 
in the to-day of life. 



50 practical HE>eciamatton& 

As we now review the scenes of bygone years how 
old familiar faces rise up and haunt our vision with 
their well- remembered features, companions of our 
earlier years endeared to us by many a tie. 

Friendship above all ties doth bind the heart; 
And faith in friendship is the noblest part. 

At times discouragements have assailed us, but as a 
good cause makes a stout heart we have pushed on, 
and in future we will hold in grateful remembrance 
the yesterdays of our school-years. 

Gentlemen of the Board of Education — To you we 
would tender our thanks for the many encouragements 
received, procuring for us kind and efficient instructors 
and pleasant surroundings. Although men and women 
have risen to great distinction under the most adverse 
circumstances, progress is more sure and rapid when 
surrounded by comfort and plenty. 

To our Instructor, who has so faithfully labored 
with us, we would say, that although we may never 
again be placed in the relation of instructor and 
pupil, distance and time will fail to erase you from our 
memories, for in you we found a friend and counselor. 
To you we feel indebted for much that we are or may be. 
As we go out into our new field of action, we tender 
our best wishes and hopes for your future success. 

Fellow Classmates: To-night our school fellow- 
ship is broken; we must part. 

To our Successors we say, if storms of difficulties 
whistle around you, whistle as bravely yourself; the 
two whistles may make melody. Make your mark 
high and aim for it. Those who labor under the in- 
spiration of such a resolve will soar above those who 
do not. You may toil in darkness, but your day will 
surely come. And, although you may never with 
your own lips pronounce the victory complete, others 
will discover in you the traces of a noble purpose and 



SDeatlj of Caesar* 51 

a thinking mind. Instructors and fellow school- 
mates, as we part with you we wish you all an affection- 
ate farewell. 



Death of Caesar. 

The Ides of March arrived; omens of dire import 
had cast their shadows over the household of the great 
Roman. Caesar's wife was disturbed by a ghastly 
dream during the previous night, and at her request, 
contrary to his usual habit, Caesar had given way to 
depression, and decided that he would not attend the 
Senate that day. The house was full; the conspirators 
in their places with their daggers ready. It was an- 
nounced that Caesar was not coming. Delay might be 
fatal, and his familiar friend was employed to betray 
him. Decimus Brutus, whom he could not distrust, 
went to entreat his attendance. It was now eleven in 
the forenoon, and Caesar shook off his uneasiness and 
rose to go. As he crossed the hall, his statue fell, and 
was shivered on the stones. Some servant who had 
heard whispers, wished to warn him, but in vain. 
Antony, who was in attendance, was detained, as had 
been arranged by Trebonius. 

Caesar entered and took his seat. His presence 
awed men in spite of themselves, and the conspirators 
had determined to act at once, lest they should lose 
courage to act at all; they gathered around him; he 
knew them all. There was not one from whom he 
had not a right to expect some sort of gratitude, and 
the movement suggested no suspicion. Tullius Cimber, 
whom he had just made Governor of Bithynia, came 
close to him with some request which he was unwilling 
to grant; catching at his gown, as if in entreaty, he 
dragged it from his shoulders. Cassius, who was stand- 
ing behind him, stabbed him in the throat. 



52 practical Exclamations 

He started up with a cry, and caught Cassius' arm; 
another poniard entered his breast, giving him a 
mortal wound. He looked around, and seeing not 
one friendly face, but only a ring of daggers pointing 
at him, he drew his gown over his head, gathered the 
folds about him that he might fall decently, and sank 
down without uttering another word. 

The Senate rose with shrieks and confusion, and 
rushed into the forum. The crowd outside caught 
the words that Caesar was dead, and scattered to their 
homes. The murderers, some of them bleeding from 
wounds which they had given one another in their 
eagerness, followed, crying that the tyrant was dead, 
and that Rome was free; and the body of the great 
Caesar was left alone where a few weeks before Cicero 
had told him that he was so necessary to his country 
that every Senator would die before harm should 
reach him. — Froude. 



The Story of Garfield. 

James A. Garfield, the twentieth President of the 
United States, was born in Orange township, Cuyahoga 
Co., Ohio, Nov. 19, 1831. He was the youngest of 
four children, and his early life was passed in the 
deepest poverty. His parents were among the pioneers 
in the wilderness emigrating from New England. 

His father by hard work had succeeded in clearing 
about twenty acres of land out of a deep forest; had 
fenced these acres, planted an orchard, built a log- 
cabin and a barn, when he was taken suddenly ill, 
and his sickness proved to be mortal. Calling his 
wife to him, he said: " Eliza, I have planted four 
saplings in these woods; I must now leave them to 
your care." Then giving a last, long look upon his 
little farm as it stretched beyond the window towards 



tfrtje £>tor£ of Garfield ♦ 53 

the east, he called his oxen by their names and ex- 
pired. 

The poor widow was stunned by the suddenness 
of her great loss, and bowing her head she wept bitterly. 

"Do not cry, mother; I will take care of you," 
said Thomas, her eldest son, a lad of ten years, who 
stood by her side scarce knowing what he said. 

"God bless you, my son; I will try to be brave for 
your sakes," she replied. 

Her two little girls could understand that their father 
was dead. But James, the youngest child, not two 
years old, looked wonderingly out of his great blue 
eyes at his father's face, and lisped, "Papa sleep?" 
What darkness rested on the home of the Garfields ! 

Mrs. Garfield, with a small unpaid-for farm, stand- 
ing in a forest, only partially broken by clearings, 
surrounded by neighbors almost as poor as she, became 
the "head of the family." She declared the home 
should not be broken up, that the farm should be kept, 
that the children should be cared for until they could go 
out into the world for themselves. 

She rose early and retired late. She often worked 
in the fields with the boys, helped to plant and hoe the 
corn, gather the hay crop, and clear and fence the land. 
She spun the yarn, wx>ve the cloth for the children's 
clothes, sewed for the neighbors, knit stockings, and 
cooked the meals for the household. In winter the 
children went to school, the mother helping them even- 
ings with their lessons. James was taught to read by 
her, and had no better opportunity for study through 
his boyhood than was afforded at the district school. 

Besides their education, this brave woman instilled 
into the minds of her children the religious and moral 
maxims of her New England ancestry. She often read 
to them from the Bible, selecting those parts which 
their young minds could comprehend. 

Among the books which young James found in his 



54 practical acclamations 

home were "The Life of Marion" and "The Life of 
Napoleon." 

As he read the wonderful deeds of these remarkable 
men, he would exclaim, "Mother, when I get to be a 
man, I am going to be a soldier." 

Books of adventure and tales of daring seemed to 
fascinate him; when he lay down at night, he dreamed 
of the sea and a life of adventure. 

At the age of ten James felt in him the determination 
to do for himself. He engaged to cut a hundred cords 
of wood in a distant town for $25. He went bravely 
to work, but found out he had undertaken a very diffi- 
cult task, but his pride forbade him to give up. He 
had said he would do it, and do it he would let it cost 
what labor and effort it might. The wood was chopped 
and neatly piled and he received his hard-earned $25. 

He told his mother of his desire to be a sailor, but she 
objected, and James set about work on the farm again. 
When autumn came, he again told her of his desire to 
go to sea and that she must permit him to go. He 
packed a few clothes in a bundle and started on foot 
for Cleveland. Amid prayers and forebodings, his 
mother bade him good-bye; her blessing was his only 
fortune. 

But he was not destined for this career. On arriving 
at Cleveland, there was but one ship in port, and dis- 
appointed in getting a situation on this vessel, he hired 
out as a driver on a boat on the Ohio Canal. Before 
long a malarial fever prostrated him for a long time 
and dashed his plans for roving to the ground. He 
came to think more soberly of life. He resolved to go 
home, get an education, and become a useful man. 

He arrived late at night at the log cabin and through 
the window saw his mother kneeling before the Bible 
which lay open on a chair; for the first time he compre- 
hended that his departure had nearly broken that 
mother's heart. 



Wfyt £>toty of 6arfielD* 55 

A great change was now observed in James; he had 
turned into the path of his mother's choice, and see 
where it led him. He entered Geauga Seminary, hiring 
a room, furnishing his own provisions, paying his 
expenses by working nights, mornings, and Saturdays 
with carpenter's tools. At the end of the second term 
he sought for a school to teach, but was discouraged 
and humiliated by the rebuffs he had met with, for he 
looked young and uncultivated. He, however, obtained 
the " Ledge School," and at the end of the term had 
the name of being the best " school-master ever em- 
ployed there." 

When the school was closed, he entered Hiram 
Institute for further education. To earn the needed 
funds he became the janitor. One of the teachers 
of the Institute being ill, young Garfield was called 
upon to take his place. In this way, by teaching and 
going to school, he fitted himself for Williams College. 

Here his intellectual force and his powers of study 
were soon recognized. His Western, easy-going man- 
ners, ready wit, and broad sympathy soon made him a 
favorite among his classmates. 

Dr. Hopkins said of him, "The course of James A. 
Garfield has been one which the young men of the 
country may well emulate. He was prompt, frank, 
manly, social in his tendencies, combining active 
exercise with habits of study, and thus did for himself, 
what is the object of a college to enable every man to 
do — he made himself a man." 

Garfield went back to his Ohio home, and entered 
Hiram College as teacher of ancient languages and 
literature. The next year he became president of the 
institution; the next he was chosen to the State Senate, 
where he at once took high rank. When the war broke 
out he was among the first to volunteer. He made a 
brilliant record in the army, receiving a commission 
of Major-General for bravery and ability in the battle 



56 ^practical 2i>eclamattott0* 

of Chickamauga. Next he was sent to Congress and 
was a member of the House of Representatives fifteen 
years. In 1880 he was elected to the Senate, and in 
November of the same year was elected President of 
the United States, and inaugurated March 4th, 1881. 

But this brilliant life came to an abrupt and sudden 
end. On the 2d of July, as he was leaving the depot 
at Washington to visit his old college, he was shot by 
an assassin. After eighty days of intense suffering, 
borne with marvelous fortitude and courage, he died 
Sept. 19th, 1 88 1, mourned by the whole civilized world. 

But let us not consider Garfield as dead in the 
ordinary sense of the word. He has gone from the 
ranks of the mortals and entered mto the glorious 
company of the immortals. 

This representative American has been lifted aloft 
for an ensign to the people of every nation of the world. 
As the years go by the true proportions of this great 
man will stand out in grand relief. His virtues will 
be recalled, his eloquent words will be declaimed by 
millions of school-boys, his portrait will hang in the 
rooms of aspiring young men, his great example will 
be copied by the rising statesman, his Christian 
faith and fortitude will be mentioned in the village- 
church. 

Let us not forget that such men are only shaped amid 
the common toils, opportunities, and trials of our com- 
mon life; that they became what they were just by 
doing the wisest and best thing they knew every day 
in the year, with all their might, in constant faith and 
trust in a loving God. When we see men crazed with 
madness for money, we may point to him, who, without 
fortune, became famous; who, with solid work, high 
principles, unflinching courage, and persistence in the 
right, made that log-cabin in the wilderness more 
famed than the grandest palace built to display the 
wealth of the proudest millionaire. — A. D. Mayo. 



tftlje Spirit* ant) 3|t$ Creations 57 



The Mind and Its Creations. 

Valedictory. 

The human mind is worthy of all the pains and cul- 
ture that can be bestowed upon it. In whatever depart- 
ment we look we cannot but admire its productions. If 
we take, for example, the works of the ancient poets, 
if we examine the lines written nearly 3,000 years ago, 
we everywhere find elegance and force. The adven- 
tures of the Greeks in their efforts to take possession of 
Troy, and the wanderings of Achilles are told in lan- 
guage that, when understood, compels not only our 
attention but our admiration and our tears. Kingdoms 
may rise and fall, but those matchless poems live on. 
Like the soul itself they seem immortal. 

Not less is it true of the works of genius of the past 
and present century. To name the name of Shakes- 
peare, or Milton, or Dante, oj Schiller, is to name undy- 
ing things whose fame goes down the centuries. The 
lines they wrote give the same pleasure to us that they 
did to our ancestors who are mouldered in the dust; 
being thus a perennial spring of delight, they are passed 
on from father to son, and thus obtain their power of 
perpetuity. The verse which I cite from the poet 
Byron you will agree worthy of the praise bestowed 
upon it; it will be repeated a thousand years from now: 

"All heaven and earth are still, though not in sleep, 
But breathless as we grow when feeling most; 

And silent as we stand in thoughts too deep ; 

All heaven and earth are still; from the high host 

Of stars to the lulled lake and mountain coast. 
All is concentrated in a life intense 

Where not a beam, nor leaf is lost, 
But hath a part of being and a sense 
Of that which is of all Creator and Defence." 



58 practical H>eciamatton& 

But the human irind creates in varied forms and with 
perpetual activity; poetry is but one of its products. 
The common objects around us have been constructed 
to render* life delightful; our articles of furniture, our 
household contrivances, so numerous, are all manifesta- 
tions of this spirit. 

The ancients carried the art of painting and sculpture 
to a high pitch. No one at the present day can produce 
a piece of work equal to the Apollo Belvidere — 

" Lord of the silver bow." 

And it may well be believed that their paintings far sur- 
passed anything that can now be originated. Yet the 
celebrated Turner painted a number of the most re- 
markable pictures, and beside rendering his name 
immortal they give delight to every beholder; for the 
" Slave Ship" $25,000 was paid, yet it is not a yard 
square. 

In whatever condition man is placed he attempts to 
ameliorate it. Seizing the forces of nature he com- 
bines and employs them so as to work newer and 
more satisfactory conditions. We are never satisfied; 
each new discovery is used as a step to something else 
beyond, to something else that gives us more power, 
influence, and happiness. 

The higher stage thus indicated demands more 
intelligence and more education. The more man 
invents and discovers, the more need there is for 
schools and seminaries of learning. Education is 
therefore a necessity; it is a condition of the develop- 
ing times. 

We have now closed an arduous year of labor. 
Under the care of excellent teachers we have made 
good progress in all our studies. We rejoice over 
the opportunities we have had to increase our knowl- 
edge and to train our minds. This will ever be remem- 
bered by us in after years, for we have spent here many 



W$t spinD anti 3|t0 Creations 59 

happy hours. Each recitation has made us stronger 
and better, and each new study in turn has developed 
our mental powers more harmoniously. In looking 
back, we have only to regret that the past cannot 
return. 

Kind friends, you have listened to our exercises with 
an earnest and sympathetic attention, and we beg you 
to accept our thanks. We are sure of your approval 
of these efforts of ours for an education. Standing on 
the threshold of life we desire your good wishes and 
your cordial benedictions. 

The deserves the earnest support of every 

one on account of the good work it is doing in behalf of 

education in M ; such a school demands a 

hearty and constant recognition, and we, its pupils, 
commend it to you, because it has proved beneficial 
to us. 

Dear Teachers, the hour is at hand when the tender 
relations we have sustained must be suspended. We 
must part after a year of study under your competent 
^direction. As the memory goes back over this time, 
we recall many instances of special kindness and for- 
bearance and perpetual indications of your interest in 
our progress. We, as your affectionate pupils, beg you 
to remember us yet ; we would not be forgotten. When 
the school assembles after vacation some of us will be 
absent from this happy group. Remember us then. 
As you assemble at the morning hour for worship of the 
great Creator remember us who have enjoyed those 
occasions with you. We ask you to accept our grateful 
thanks for giving us the means of entering upon a happy 
and useful life. May your lives be spared and your 
labors long continued. May He w T ho is the author of 
all good grant you his choicest blessing. 

Dear Schoolmates: It is my lot to bid you in the 
name of the school an adieu. We have had many happy 
hours together, and we shall not forget them — noi 



6o practical SDeclantattonsu 

each other. We are soon to separate, but we shall 
ever bear tender recollections of our attendance at 

. Wherever we go we shall have an abiding 

interest in the welfare of each. May we have the 
Divine guidance and blessing, and obtain an entrance 
into the "city not made with hands eternal in the 
Heavens.' ' 



Night Reflections. 

I wonder sometimes what a mean man thinks about 
when he goes to bed; when he turns out the light and 
lies down; when the darkness closes in about him, 
and he is alone, and compelled to be honest with him- 
self; when not a bright thought, not a generous im- 
pulse, not a manly act, not a word of blessing, not a 
grateful look can be recalled. Not a penny dropped 
into the outstretched palm of poverty, nor the balm of 
a loving word dropped into an aching heart; no sun- 
beam of encouragement cast upon a struggling life; 
no strong right hand of fellowship reached out to help 
some fallen man to his feet — when none of these 
things come to him as the "God bless you" of the 
departed day, how he must hate himself! How he 
must try to roll away from himself and sleep on the 
other side of the bed. When the only victory he can 
think of is some mean victory in which he has wronged 
a neighbor. No wonder such a man exhibits a sneer 
when he tries to put on a smile. How pure and fair 
and good all the rest of the world must look to him, 
and how cheerless and dusty and dreary must his own 
path appear. Why even one lone, isolated act of 
meanness is enough to scatter cracker-crumbs in the 
bed of. the average, ordinary man, and what must be 
the feelings of a man whose whole life is given up to 
mean acts? When there is so much suffering and 



W$t ftuie of ILift. 61 

heartache and misery in the world, anyhow, why should 
one add a single ounce of wickedness or sadness to the 
general burdens? Don't let us be mean. Let us 
suffer injustice a thousand times rather than commit 
it once; so shall our sleep be sweet at night. 



The Rule of Life. 

I have witnessed and taken a deep interest in every 
step of the marvelous development and progress which 
have characterized this century beyond all the centuries 
which have gone before. Measured by the achieve- 
ments of the years I have seen, I am one of the oldest 
men who have ever lived; but I do not feel old, and I 
propose to give the receipt by which I have preserved 
my youth. I have always given a friendly welcome to 
new ideas, and I have endeavored not to feel too old to 
learn; and thus, though I stand here with the snows 
of so many winters upon my head, my faith in human 
nature, my belief in the progress of man to a better 
social condition, and especially my trust in the ability 
of men to establish and maintain self-government, are 
as fresh and as young as when I began to travel the 
path of life. 

While I have always recognized that the object of 
business is to make money in an honorable manner, I 
have endeavored to remember that the object of life is 
to do good. Hence I have been ready to engage in all 
new enterprises, and, without incurring debt, to risk 
the means which I had incurred in their promotion, 
provided they seemed to me calculated to advance the 
general good. This will account for my early attempt 
to perfect the steam-engine, for my early attempt to 
construct the first American locomotive, for my connec- 
tion with the telegraph in a course of efforts to unite 
our country with the European world, and for my recent 



62 practical Exclamations* 

efforts to solve the problem of economical steam navi- 
gation on the canals. 

It happens to but few men to be able to change the 
current of human progress, as did Watt, Fulton, 
Stephenson, and Morse; but all men may welcome 
laborers to new fields of usefulness and clear the road 
for their progress. This I have tried to do, as well in 
the perfecting and execution of their ideas as in making 
such provision as my means have permitted for the 
proper education of the young mechanics and citizens 
of my native city. I have desired to fit them for the 
reception of new ideas — social, mechanical, and scien- 
tific — hoping thus to economize and expand the intel- 
lectual as well as the physical forces, and provide a 
larger fund for distribution among the various classes 
which necessarily make up the total of society. 

I feel that nature has provided beautifully for the 
wants of all men and that we need only knowledge — 
scientific, political, and religious — and self-control, in 
order to eradicate the evils under which society has 
suffered in all ages. Let me say, that my experience 
of life has not dimmed my hopes for humanity; that 
my sun is not setting in clouds and darkness, but is 
going down cheerfully in a clear firmament lighted up 
by the glory of God, who should always be venerated 
and loved as the infinite Source and Fountain of all 
light, life, power, wisdom, and goodness. 

— Peter Cooper. 



What the World Owes Us. 

"The world owes me a living," says Cinnamon 
Carter, and he adds that he means to have it. To 
accomplish this he borrows money of every man that 
will lend him any, and never does a day's work when 
he can help it. He lets his wife take in washing while 



ptttt Cooper* 63 

he sits in the barroom and smokes and drinks. He 
gets up in the morning and swears like a trooper if 
there is no bread in the pantry. He tells the man who 
is next to him, when he is smoking a pipe, that it is 
hard times, but that the world owes him a living and 
he's a going to have it. 

The world only owes a man what he earns. What 
has Cinnamon Carter done for the world? He has 
walked up and down, and consumed food and drink, 
and made one more in a crowd when a horse tumbles 
down in the street, or at a dog-fight. He has made no 
discoveries, brought out no inventions, written no 
poetry, nor made any one richer or happier; not a 
single man is under obligations to him. He gets what 
others produce, he wears out the clothes that others 
make. 

Cinnamon Carter holds down drygoods boxes in 
front of grocery stores in the summer time. In the 
winter time he gets near the grocery man's fire until 
he puts him out. If they can, such men sit down on a 
barrel of dried apples while their wives are breaking 
their backs over the wash tub. 

The world does not owe him a cent; he owes the 
world a great deal more than it will ever get out of 
him. He is not a producer, he is a consumer; he does 
not build, he destroys. It is not such men that make 
the world richer; if they go to California and do not 
return no one mourns for them. 



Peter Cooper. 

Among the grand names that adorn the gallery of 
human achievements must ever stand the name of 
Peter Cooper. Starting in life as a poor boy, he 
raised himself to that position of prominence which he 
held for half a century in the eyes of his fellow men. 



64 practical SPeclamatton^ 

Other men have been more dashing and dazzling; but 
who has exhibited a nobler character and done more 
for his kind? The noblest charity is that which 
enables a man to help himself. And who has suc- 
ceeded more effectually in accomplishing this truly 
laudable purpose than this grand old man who has 
been committed to his kindred dust. Some men sink 
into oblivion, but the name of Peter Cooper will increase 
in brightness, as his real character becomes more and 
more appreciated. 

There was an internal power in his nature that pro- 
pounded to him a problem, the solution of which en- 
gaged all his energies; that problem was: How can I 
benefit my race ? Such a man is appreciated ; and so 
while the sun rises and sets, while the hum of activity 
and enterprise continues, so long will the name of 
Cooper be remembered by grateful thousands. There 
are some who can recall his genial face and pleasant 
smile; they were the emanation of a kindly heart. He 
is gone but he is not dead; in fact a good man never 
dies. 

" The sweet remembrance of the just, 
Shall flourish when they sleep in dust." 

The good they do shall live after them; and as the 
noble father is perpetuated in the noble son, so the 
good deeds of the good man — his children — shall live 
after and be admired by successive generations. 

God be praised for all the good who have lived on 
the earth — for all the toilers and workers for our com- 
mon humanity, for all who have made life glorious, for 
all who have lifted up their fellow men, for all teachers 
and educators, who have done their best to bring out 
what was in man and put him on the high road of 
human progress. And the noblest encomium that any 
one of us can claim here is that we have assisted some 
one of our fellow men to rise — to rise in the scale of 



SDeatl) anD ^Immortaiic^* 65 

moral and intellectual being to fit himself for greater 
usefulness here and greater glory in the world to come. 
The life of Peter Cooper may encourage us all to 
act well our parts. We all may learn a lesson from 
his career of the true use of wealth — we may all like- 
wise learn from it the value of true wisdom and learn- 
ing. And, as Cooper Institute, that grand monument 
to his memory, is seen, may the desire to do as nobly as 
he fill the beholder's heart. 



Death and Immortality. 

Death is the great antagonist of life, and the thought 
of the tomb is the skeleton of all feasts. We do not 
w T ant to go through the dark valley, although its passage 
may lead to paradise ; and, with Charles Lamb, we do 
not want to lie down in the grave, even with kings and 
princes for our bed-fellows. But the fiat of nature is 
inexorable. There is no appeal or relief from the great 
law which dooms us to dust. We flourish and we fade 
as the leaves of the forest, and the flower that blossoms 
and withers in a day has not a frailer hold upon life 
than the mightiest monarch that ever shook the earth 
with his footsteps. Generations of men appear and 
vanish like the grass, and the countless multitudes that 
throng the world to-day will to-morrow disappear as 
the wave leaves the shore. 

But we do not die; we disappear from this scene to 
reappear elsewhere. This the wonderful Galileo dis- 
closed to mankind, seeming to wonder that it could 
ever have been doubted. The thoughtful in all ages 
have seen that this must be so. In the drama of Ion, 
the beloved Clemanthe asks: " Shall we meet again ?" 
He replies: "I have asked that question of the hills 
that look eternal — of the clear streams that flow forever 
— of the stars, among whose fields of azure my ele- 



66 practical Exclamations* 

vated spirit had walked in glory. All were dumb. But 
while I gazed upon thy living face I feel that there is 
something in you that cannot wholly perish. We shall 
meet again, Clemanthe." 

This great thought sustains us as we gaze upon the 
dead. The words of Jesus are, "Thy brother shall 
live again." 



A Great Inheritance. 

Let all students bear in mind that this great world, 
with all its wealth and woe, with all its mines and 
mountains, its oceans, seas, and rivers, with all its 
shipping, its steamboats, railroads, and magnetic tele- 
graphs, with all its millions of men, and all the science 
and progress of ages, will soon be given over to them — 
to those now assembled in school-rooms, or playing 
without them, on both sides of the Atlantic. Yes, 
they are the ones who will soon control them all! Let 
them look abroad upon the inheritance, and get ready 
to enter upon its possession. The kings, presidents, 
governors, statesmen, philosophers, ministers, teachers 
of the future, all are boys now at school. 

Let us then be making ready to act well our part. 
Let us become good scholars; read only what is in- 
structive; spend no time with trashy novels; study 
science and government, and the history of the world; 
study agriculture and mechanism; become as nearly as 
possible perfect in the occupation we may choose. 
Let us learn prudence and self-control; have great 
decision of character; take the Bible for our guide; 
become familiar with its teachings, and observe them; 
seek wisdom and prosperity from our heavenly Father. 
As we grow in stature, in bodily strength, and in years, 
let us grow in piety, in intelligence, in caution, in activ- 
ity, in firmness, and in charity. Let us aspire to be 



l£>tmo$t\)mt& to t\)t #ti)enian& 67 

men of the noblest character; cherish the feeling that 
we were born to receive good and to do good; be manly 
in spirit and in action. 



Demosthenes to the Athenians. 

In the first place, Athenians, admit the incontest- 
able fact that Philip has violated his treaties and de- 
clared war against you. On that point let us have no 
further crimination or recrimination. And then admit 
the fact that he is the mortal enemy of Athens, of 
its very soil, of all within its walls — ay, of those even 
who most flatter themselves that they are high in his 
good graces. What Philip most fears and abhors is 
our liberty, our free democratic system. For the 
destruction of that all his snares are laid, all his proj- 
ects are shaped. 

Is he not consistent in this? Truly, he is well 
aware that though he should subjugate all the rest of 
Greece, his conquest would be insecure so long as 
your democracy should stand. Well does he know 
that should he experience one of those reverses to 
which the lot of humanity is so liable, it would be into 
your arms that all of those nations now forcibly held 
under his yoke would rush. Is there a tyrant to drive 
back? Athens is in the field! Is there a people to 
be enfranchised? Lo! Athens is prompt to aid! 
What wonder, then, that Philip should be impatient 
so long as Athenian liberty is a spy upon his evil days ? 
Be sure, O my countrymen, that Philip is your irrecon- 
cilable foe ; that it is against Athens he musters all his 
armaments; against Athens all his schemes are laid. 

What, then, as wise men convinced of these truths, 
ought you to do? What but to shake off your fatal 
lethargy, contribute according to your means, summon 
your allies to contribute and take measures to maintain 



68 practical Exclamations 

the troops already under arms, so that if Philip has an 
army prepared to attack and subjugate all the Greeks 
you may have an army ready to succor them and to 
save? Tell me not of the trouble and expense which 
this will involve. I grant it all. But consider the 
dangers that beset you, and how much you will be the 
gainers by engaging heartily at once in the general 
cause. 

But if my sentiments are yours, if you foresee, as I 
do, that the more we leave Philip to extend his con- 
quests, the more we are fortifying an enemy whom, 
sooner or later, we must cope with, why do you hesi- 
tate? what wait you? When will you put forth your 
strength? Wait you the constraint of necessity? 
What necessity ? Can there be a more pressing one for 
freemen than the prospect of dishonor? Do you wait 
for that ? It is here already; it presses, it weighs on us 
even now. Now, did I say ? Long since was it before 
us, face to face. Truly, there is still another necessity 
in reserve — the necessity of slaves — subjugation, blows, 
and stripes. Wait you for them? The gods forbid! 
The very words are in this place an indignity! 



The Result of Effort. 

Of all the pretty little songs I have ever heard, that 
is one of the best which winds up — 

"If at first you don't succeed, 
Try, try, try again. " 

I recommend this to grown-up people who are down 
in the mouth, and fancy that the best thing they can 
do is to give up. Nobody knows what he can do till 
he tries. " We shall get through it if we keep on," said 
Jack to Harry, as they worked at the pudding; and 
why not of other things? Everything new is hard 



X&ty Hmilt of effort* 69 

work, but a little of the TRY ointment rubbed on the 
hand and worked into the heart makes all things easy. 
CanH do it sticks in the mud, but Try soon drags 
the wagon out of the rut. The fox said Try, and he 
got away from the hounds when they almost snapped 
at him. The bees said Try, and turned flowers into 
honey. The squirrel said Try, and up he went to 
the top of the beech-tree. The snowdrop said Try, 
and bloomed in the cold snows of winter. The sun 
said Try, and the spring soon threw Jack Frost out of 
sight. The young lark said Try, and he found his new 
wings took him over hedges and ditches, and up where 
his father was singing. The ox said Try, and ploughed 
the field from end to end. No hill too steep for Try to 
climb, no clay too stiff for Try to plough, no field too 
wet for Try to drain, no hole too big for Try to mend. 

. "By little strokes 

Men fell great oaks." 

By a spadeful at a time men dig out the cuttings, cut 
a big hole through the hill, and heap up the embank- 
ment, and the railroad cars spin along. 

" The stone is hard, and the drop is small, 
But a hole is made by the constant fall." 

What man has done man can do, and what has 
never been may be. Ploughmen have got to be gentle- 
men, cobblers have turned their lapstones into gold, 
and tailors have become members of Parliament. 
Tuck up your shirt-sleeves young Hopeful, and go at it. 
Where there's a will there's a way. The sun shines for 
all the world. Believe in God, and stick to hard work, 
and see if the mountains are not removed. Faint 
heart never won fair lady. Cheer, boys, cheer; God 
helps them that help themselves. Never mind luck, 
that's what the fool had when he killed himself with 
eating suet pudding; the best luck in all the world is 
made of elbow-grease. — Spurgeon. 



jo practical acclamations 

Intemperance. 

No evil causes more misery and shame to enter up 
the life record of our American citizens than comes from 
the excessive use of intoxicating liquors. It blasts 
even those who do not touch it. The wife and children 
of the drunkard are involved in ruin. It incites the 
father to butcher his innocent children, it helps the 
husband to kill his wife, it produces weakness, sickness, 
and death, it blasts this life and blasts out a hope in 
Heaven hereafter, it covers the land with idleness and 
poverty, fills our jails, supplies our almshouses, and 
furnishes victims for the scaffold. 

Could intoxicating liquors be put away, it would 
make many people of our country more industrious, 
more trustworthy, richer, and happier. Think of the 
money which is yearly expended for liquor. I may 
safely assert that thousands of poor families would be 
well supplied with bread were the money they earned 
used for that purpose. Suppose the millions spent on 
whiskey were used for educational purposes; how 
much better and wiser would our people be if a public 
library could be started in every village, instead of a 
saloon; knowledge like a fountain would refresh the 
minds of all. Let us then use our influence to prevent 
the use of intoxicating liquors. 



A Sermon on Tobacco. 

My brethren, I will take for my text this verse: 
"Thy sons should not smoke, nor thy daughters 
snuff of ithe pestiferous tobacco." 

Many years ago Satan took a tobacco seed and 
cast it into the ground. It grew and became a great 
plant, and spread its leaves rank and broad. And 



ft Sermon on tobacco* 71 

it came to pass, in the course of time, that the sons 
of men looked upon it, and some of them thought it 
beautiful to look upon, and much to be desired to 
make lads look big and manly, so they put forth 
their hands and did gather and chew thereof; and 
some it made sick and others to expectorate most 
filthily. And it also came to pass that those who chewed 
it became weak and unmanly, and they found that 
they were enslaved. And Satan laughed. And in the 
course of time it came also to pass that old ladies 
snuffed it, and they were suddenly taken with fits, in 
consequence thereof, and they did sneeze and sneeze, 
insomuch that their eyes w r ere filled with tears, and 
they did look exceedingly funny. And yet others fool- 
ishly wrought the leaves thereof into rolls, and did set 
fire to one end thereof, and did try to look very grave 
and wise while the smoke ascended. And Satan 
laughed. And the cultivation thereof became a great 
and mighty business in the earth. Merchantmen 
waxed rich by the commerce thereof. The poor, 
that could not buy shoes, nor bread, nor books for 
their little ones, spent their money for it. And Satan 
laughed. Now, my brethren, cease from this evil 
thing that you do. Be slaves no more. 



Liberty and Drunkenness. 

"All men are born free and equal,' ' says the Declara- 
tion of Independence. "They are endowed by their 
Creator with certain inalienable rights, among which 
are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." 

Now, what does Liberty mean? In an organized 
society it cannot mean that any one can be allowed to do 
what is detrimental to the well-being of others. There 
must be Justice to all. 

Justice forbids all enterprises dangerous to public 



72 {practical acclamations 

health and morals. It forbids crime and gambling- 
dens; it forbids the carrying of concealed weapons, 
shooting within city limits, the erection of wooden 
buildings within fire limits; it forbids contagious 
diseases, slaughter-houses, etc. Now how does this 
ffect the liquor traffic and its relations to public 
safety ? 

The liquor traffic is the cause of the increase of the 
drinking habit and its unavoidable result — drunken- 
ness. It puts in continual danger the lives of great 
numbers of women and children and sober men, by 
turning loose upon them the degraded and crazed slaves 
of strong drink. From 60,000 to 100,000 lives perish 
annually on account of it. Numberless crimes are the 
result of it. Judge Noah Davis tells us that nine-tenths 
of all murders which are brought before the courts are 
the result of strong drink. The report of the Com- 
missioner of Internal Revenue says that the people 
drink up more money than twelve times the cost of 
schools and churches. Thousands of families become 
paupers through it. 

It thus appears that our lives, our liberty, and the 
pursuit of happiness is stopped by the liquor traffic; 
our inalienable rights are interfered with; the gifts of 
the Creator to man are taken from him. The great 
obstacle to human progress is human wickedness, and 
there is no agency that causes so much wickedness as 
the liquor traffic. 



Being a Boy- 
One of the best things in the world to be is a boy; 
it requires no experience, though it needs some practice 
to be a good one. The disadvantage of the position 
is that he does not last long enough. It is soon over. 
Just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be 



515emg a 115ots 73 

something else, with a good deal more work to do 
and not half so much fun. And yet every boy is 
anxious to be a man, and is very uneasy with the re- 
strictions that are put upon him as a boy. 

There are so many bright spots in the life of a farm- 
boy that I sometimes think I should like to live the 
life over again. I should almost be willing to be a 
girl if it were not for the chores. There is a great 
comfort to a boy in the amount of work he can get rid 
of doing. It is sometimes astonishing how slow he 
can go on an errand. Perhaps he couldn't explain, 
himself, why, when he is sent to the neighbor's after 
yeast, he stops to stone the frogs. He is not exactly 
cruel, but he wants to see if he can hit 'em. It is a 
curious fact about boys that two will be a great deal 
slower in doing anything than one. Boys have a 
great power of helping each other do nothing. 

But say what you will about the general usefulness 
of boys, a farm without a boy would very soon come to 
grief. He is always in demand. In the first place, 
he is to do all the errands, go to the store, the post- 
office, and to carry all sorts of messages. He would 
like to have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and 
rotate about in the same way. This he sometimes 
tries to do, and people who have seen him " turning 
cart wheels" along the side of the road have supposed 
he was amusing himself and idling his time. He was 
only trying to invent a new mode of locomotion, so 
that he could economize his legs, and do his errands 
with greater dispatch. Leap-frog is only one of his 
methods of getting over the ground quickly. He has a 
natural genius for combining pleasure with business. 
There have been many efforts by parents and teachers 
to get work out of a boy under the guise of play, but 
these have been failures; but a boy will do more hard 
work in some plays, like baseball, than could be got 
out of him in the hay-field, even though he was paid a 



74 practical H>eciamatton& 

dollar a day. Nobody but a boy would think of calling 
baseball play. — C. D. Warner. 



Two Kinds of Foolishness. 

It is said that John Martin, a Jesuit, used to regard 
his body as a rebellious slave that, while it dwelt within 
his house, ate at his table, and slept in his bed, was con- 
tinually laying snares for his destruction. He, there- 
fore, hated it with the greatest hatred imaginable. He 
flogged it every day with scourges of whip-cord, leather 
and wire. He wore upon his arms, legs, and around 
his body rough hair-cloth lined with sharp points of 
wire and metal perforated like a nutmeg -grater. When 
he made long journeys he put pebbles and grains of 
corn in his shoes. His only food was bread and water. 
Do you say he was a fool ? Perhaps he was, but there 
are thousands of greater ones within a few hundred 
miles of this place. 

We can scarcely walk a block in a city or village 
without meeting a fool. He is the man who goes 
clothed in rags when he might be dressed comfortably 
and respectably. The man who has sore eyes and a 
bloated face when he might have good eyes and a 
manly instead of a beastly countenance; he has totter- 
ing limbs and shaking hands when he might have sound 
ones; he has a foul breath and a foul mind when both 
might be pure; he is tormented by an intense thirst that 
will never be satisfied; by agony of body and anguish 
of mind when he might be well and happy; he wanders 
about cold and hungry, homeless and friendless, when 
he might be sitting by his own bright fireside surrounded 
by wife, children, and friends; he is tormented during 
his rational moments with forebodings of an eternity of 
misery, when he might have bright hopes of everlasting 
happiness. 



#Dbtce to a Noting $am 75 

Who could be more foolish than this man? John 
Martin only inflicted misery upon his body, by denying 
it the comforts it craved. This man not only inflicts 
misery upon his body, by pouring into it a poison that 
it loathes, until the unnatural appetite for it has been 
created, but he inflicts misery upon his soul by loading 
it with remorse. Ah! I would rather live, as did John 
Martin, upon bread and water till the day of my death, 
than to fare sumptuously every day, if with such fare 
I must learn to use the stuff that turns man from the 
image of his Maker into the image of the beast. 



Advice to a Young Man. 

Don't be mean; don't do mean things and say mean 
things. Cultivate a feeling of kindness, a spirit of 
charity broad and pure for men and things. Believe 
the best of everybody, have faith in humanity, and 
as you think better of other people, you will be better 
yourself. You can, with some accuracy, measure a 
man's character by the esteem in which he holds other 
men. When we hear a man repeatedly declare that 
all other men are knaves, be sure to get a strong endorse- 
ment on that man's paper before you lend him money. 
When a man assures me that all the temperance men 
in his town take their drinks on the sly, I wouldn't 
leave that man and my demijohn — if I had one — 
together in a room five minutes. When a man tells 
me that he doesn't know one preacher who isn't a 
hypocrite, I have all the evidence I want that that 
man is a liar. Nine times in ten, and frequently 
oftener, you will find that men endeavor to disfigure 
all other men with their own weakness, failings, and 
vices. So let us think well and charitably of all people, 
or the world is full of good people. And above all 
et us strive to be one of that set ourselves. 



j6 practical Exclamations 



Our Homes. 

About the fireside where love and kindness dwell, 
are reared the men and women that make life a benison. 
From every well-regulated home spring wholesome 
influences that we carry with us to the grave. Who of 
us that have known good homes in childhood can look 
back at the old fireside, radiant with sweet faces and 
merriment, without a thrill of pleasure? At home we 
act out our natural selves. Affectation is there laid 
aside, and we stand revealed — amiable, or irritable, 
kindly and affectionate, or the reverse. After a selfish 
man has crossed his threshold the littleness and pettish- 
ness of his nature, studiously concealed from the world 
at large, come to the surface. In order to know a 
person intimately one must study his home-life and 
see him often at the fireside. 

Home comforts and joys are made up of so many 
apparently little things that it is difficult to picture 
them in a way that does them justice. Our homes 
may be models of beauty; we may have fine paintings 
and rich furniture and carpets; we may entertain our 
friends sumptuously, yet there is something lacking 
that makes all this seem vain and empty — the warmth 
and light such as only love can lend to vivify a home. 
The heart requires more than elegance to make it 
happy. If mother is absorbed in dress and society, 
and father gives all his time to business and the accu- 
mulation of money, the children must look elsewhere 
for the little attention and kindnesses such as a child 
longs for from its parents. 

Few of us see the beauties or grasp the benefits of the 
present. In reaching out and struggling for some 
future prize, we trample under foot many a present 
blessing, and overlook many an opportunity of infusing 
sunshine into our homes and the lives about us. He 



« |£ou $$u&t SQtorfe ^our ©ton ^ap* 77 

who habitually brings home with him at night a smiling 
face and cheerful greeting is more of a benefactor than 
he imagines. Cheerfulness left out, home is the dullest 
place in the world. 

Our home-life shapes our character. No other in- 
fluence leaves such indelible impressions. As the home 
is good or bad, so are we. Seldom, indeed, does a 
wretched, cheerless home produce a noble man or 
woman; seldom does a Christian home produce a thief 
or murderer: Ever active, profound, far-reaching, the 
influences of our early home are about us, shaping our 
career. 

Boys and girls should love their home, and no effort 
should be spared to make home worthy their love. On 
the purity of the home-life hangs the destiny of our 
government. The parents who to-day are rearing 
corner-loafers, idlers, worthless and uneducated boys 
and girls, are guilty of a crime against society, and no 
words can condemn them too strongly. 



You Must Work Your Own Way. 

Be somebody on your own account, and don't try 
to get along on the reputation of your ancestors. 
Nobody knows and nobody cares who Adam's grand- 
father was, and there is not a man living who can tell 
the name of Brigham Young's mother-in-law. Keep 
up with the procession, and do not pull back in the 
harness. Hard work never was known to kill men; 
it was the fun that men had in the intervals that killed 
them. The fact is, most people have yet to learn what 
fun really is. A man may go to Europe and spend a 
thousand dollars, and then recall the fact that he had 
a great deal more fun at a picnic twenty years ago that 
cost him just sixty-five cents. The theory that the 
world owes every man a living is false. 



78 practical acclamations 

The world owes a man nothing. There is a living 
in the world for every man, however, providing the 
man is willing to work for it. If he does not work for 
it, somebody else will earn it and the lazy man "will get 
left." There are greater opportunities for workers out 
West than in the Eastern cities, but men who go out 
West to grow up with the country must do their own 
growing. There is no browsing allowed in the vigor- 
ous West. An energetic man may go out into the far 
West, and in two or three years possess himself of a 
bigger house, a bigger yard, a bigger barn, and a bigger 
mortgage than he could obtain by ten years' work in 
the East. 

No smart young man ought to envy an old rich man. 
A man should do well whatever he is given to do, and 
not despise drudgery. The world wants good shovelers, 
teamsters, and laborers, but it does not want poor law- 
yers, poor preachers, or poor editors. — Burdette. 



Adam or Liberty. 

What do we care for a statue of Liberty when we've 
got the thing itself in its wildest sublimity? What 
you want of a monument is to keep you in mind of 
something you haven't got — something you've lost. 
Very well; we haven't lost Liberty — we've lost Adam. 

"Another thing: What has Liberty done for us? 
Nothing particular that I know of. What have we 
done for her ? Everything. We've given her a home — 
good home, too ; and if she knows anything she knows 
it's the first time she ever struck that novelty. She 
knows that when we took her in she had been a mere 
tramp for 6,000 years. Yes, we not only ended her 
troubles and made things soft for her permanently, but 
we made her respectable — and that she hadn't ever been 
before. And now, after we've poured out these Atlan- 






politeness 79 

tics of benefits upon this aged outcast ; lo ! and behold 
you, we are asked to come forward and set up a monu- 
ment to her! Go to. Let her set up a monument to 
us, if she wants to do the right thing. 

"But here, on the other hand, look at Adam. What 
have we done for Adam ? Nothing. What has Adam 
done for us? Everything. He gave us life, he gave 
us death, he gave us heaven, he gave us hell. These 
are inestimable privileges — and remember, not one of 
them should we have had without Adam. Well, then, 
he ought to have a monument — for evolution is steadily 
and surely abolishing him, and we must get up a monu- 
ment and be quick about it, or our children's children 
will grow up ignorant that there ever was an Adam. 
My friends, the father of Life, Death, and the Taxes 
has been neglected long enough. Shall this infamy be 
allowed to go on, or shall it stop right here." 



Politeness. 

Did you ever see a boy come lounging into a room 
with his hat on, interrupting the conversation of his 
elders ? Did you ever see a man rush to be first at the 
table, or to get a seat in a crowded car, when ladies 
were standing, or push his way in front of people to get 
a look at something. Perhaps you have heard one 
drum and whistle in company. Such are impolite 
people. If you should advise them to be more polite, 
they would probably say, "What's the use of being 
polite?" That is just what I want to show: 

1 st. It adds to the comfort of other people; no one 
likes to be elbowed around or have his corns trod on, 
tobacco smoke blown in his face, or a great din made 
in his ears. 

2nd. It adds to the happiness of other people; you 
can make a poor old woman happy all day by helping 



80 practical Declamations* 

her over a crossing or giving her a lift on her basket 
when she needs it. 

3rd. It makes people respect you and that is con- 
siderable; it makes one respect himself more — feel 
more like a man — to have the respect of others. 

4th. It brings him friends; people won't care to culti- 
vate your acquaintance if you take no pains to make 
yourself agreeable. 

5th. It brings success in business; every merchant 
knows how important it is to show courtesy to his 
customers, and he wants polite clerks, and polite sales- 
men. Politeness is a better recommendation for a 
young man than a dozen letters. Politeness pays in 
every way. It is a good thing to invest in. 



Gaining Success. 



Success is assured if one has the elements that com- 
mand it — health, enterprise, industry, ambition, and 
principle. 

Enterprise leads one to place himself in the best 
possible relations with mankind for serving them 
with what they need — whether it be horseshoes, statu- 
ary, strawberries, or sermons, it matters not, so long as' 
his enterprise keeps him in advance of the ordinary. 
The enterprising fruit-grower is the first to adopt im- 
proved methods, the first to plant improved fruits; he 
is posted on markets, men, and things in general. 

Industry is scarcely second in consideration, for 
everything is possible to the man who is willing to work 
for it. If you see a man occupying a position of honor, 
do not say he is lucky — say he was industrious, for 
that is the reason. Men are not usually lifted into 
position by others, they raise themselves by industry, 
physical and mental. 

One must have ambition and self-esteem, or your 



&>i$n& of J?arD f&imts. 81 

chance of success will be small. All successful men 
are ambitious; are dissatisfied with their present 
position and seek for one higher. 

We often hear contentment preached. If all were 
contented the world would drag along like an over- 
loaded stage-coach that needs greasing and is drawn 
by half-starved mules. 

Principle is mentioned last as the farmer tops off his 
wall with the best stone. There are many men who 
have ability, industry, ambition, but who lack princi- 
ple, and are a failure. They are treacherous and cun- 
ning, but they do not succeed. People are afraid of 
them; their best capital, their honesty, is impeached. 
No man ever profited by a dishonorable deed. Be 
sure therefore to have principle. 



Signs of Hard Times. 

There are some signs of hard times that are never 
known to fail: 

When the man who owes you declares that his family 
has the measles and you must call next week; 

When the man that you owe insists that he can't 
wait another day; 

When your shoes are way down at the heel and your 
shoemaker informs you that leather costs money; 

When your hair has grown so long that you have to 
tuck it in your collar, and your barber says he does a 
cash business only; 

When all your friends are " Sorry, my boy, but I 
can't spare it just now;" 

When your best girl asks you what has become of 
your watch, and why you never take her out to concerts 
now; 

When you pass the soda-water stand on a hot 
day; 



82 practical Exclamations 

When you wear your collars just as long as you can 
without taking them to the laundry; 

When you stop buying tobacco for want of money; 

When you black your own boots instead of giving 
an Italian the job; 

When you think your last year's suit must answer 
for this year also; 

When you limit yourself to one course in the restau- 
rant instead of three; 

When — but you all know how it is, when you haven't 
the money to meet your usual expenses — then times are 
hard. 



Unsolved Mysteries. 

There are some unsolved mysteries in the problem 
of life that give me cause for reflection and anxiety. If 
I were rich I believe I would build me a lonely cell 
with a storeroom like a wholesale grocery, where I 
might have plenty of help in studying the problems of 
life. For often and often I wonder and wonder: 

Why you always put teaspoons into the vase upside 
down? 

Why is it so wrong to eat pie with a knife? 

What Washington said to General Lee at the battle 
of Monmouth. 

Why a man who "has gone out of politics" never 
misses a convention. 

What the State would do for penitentiaries if all the 
rascals should suddenly step up and confess? 

Why a woman falls like a flash not two inches from 
the banana skin she steps on, while a man falls like a 
cyclone half way round the block, howling like a demon 
at every plunge. 

Why "pure bear's oil" is always cheaper when pork 
is away down in price. 



#abtee to tfrtrte* 83 

Why a man frequently tries to make himself neces- 
sary when he would serve humanity much better by 
making himself scarce? 

Why Tom Thumb was always billed as "23 years 
old" until the day he died, when the papers said he 
was 61. 

What has become of the " blue-glass" remedy? 

I don't believe in philosophy wasting its time on 
trifles. If the wise men want something useful and 
practical to ponder over, here are the problems. 

— R. J. BURDETTE. 

% % % ~" 

Advice to Girls. 

A good deal of advice is wasted on boys. Girls 
don't get their share. Of course they don't need as 
much. There is no occasion to advise girls not to 
drink liquor, smoke, or chew tobacco; they are too 
sensible ajid too clean to do such foolish, filthy things. 
I have heard of girls using tobacco ; but as Mr. Moody 
said when he was asked if a Christian would use to- 
bacco, "Yes, a nasty Christian." I would say a 
nasty girl might use tobacco, but there are few such. 

But it must be admitted that girls need a little advice; 
they are not always as sweet-tempered as they ought 
to be. It is hard, I know, for them not to be vexed 
when another girl, that isn't half so sensible, is invited 
to play with the governor's daughter, just because she 
has a pretty face or dresses nicely, but do not be cross 
to her for it. She isn't to blame, and our turn may 
come next. And it is terribly aggravating to have 
people talk sense to boys, and nothing but nonsense to 
girls, as if that were all they could understand; but 
tiny do not know any better. We should chatter and 
smile as we are expected to do, but by-and-by we will 
show them how much we understand. Let us keep 
good-natured and we shall be happy yet. 



84 practical 2Deciamatton& 

Then we do need some advice about our reading. 
We don't care much about Indian stories, and people 
don't write very many stories for girls, so we take 
such as we can get, and some of them are pretty tough. 
They don't make us want to run away and shoot some- 
body, but they make us terribly silly. Let us be care- 
ful what we read. 

On another matter we need advice. Some people 
try to make us believe that because we are girls we 
1 ust never run, or jump, or play horse, or do any- 
thing that isn't ladylike. Now it will be perfectly 
proper for us to be ladylike when we get to be ladies, 
but as we are only girls, let us take all the exercise 
we need. We need not be rude about it either; we can 
be kind and polite, help our mothers, and learn our 
lessons, but we have a right to have a good time if we 
are girls. 



Look Up. 



The elements of true manhood and true womanhood 
will be found in those people who always look up. 
Whether you are old or young, rich or poor, let it be 
your motto to look up and not down. No matter if 
the sea has swallowed your property, or the fires 
have consumed your dwellings, look up — take fresh 
courage. Is your name a byword or a reproach? 
Look up to the purity of the skies, and let its image be 
reflected in your heart. Detraction then will rebound 
from your bosom. Are you trod upon by the strong? 
Look up — push up — and you will stand as strong as 
he. Are you crowded out of the society of the rich? 
Look up, and soon your society will be coveted. What- 
ever may be your circumstances or condition in life, 
always make it a point to look up— to rise higher and 
higher — and you will attain your fondest expectations.. 



feeep from tlje £>aloott 85 

Success may be slow, but sure. It will come. Heaven 
is on the side of those who look up. 



Keep from the Saloon. 

Many a young man thinks he can walk in and out 
of the gin-mill and not be harmed. But he is sure to 
fall sooner or later; the true plan is for him to sign the 
pledge and keep away from them. Vice allures and 
finally destroys; the moth hovers around the candle 
admiring its brilliancy, but lo! it soon drops scorched 
and dead. So it is with rum. 

A saloon-keeper in New York City became weary 
of the ruin that he created and gave up his business. 
He addressed a temperance society saying: — "I sold 
liquor for eleven years — long enough for me to see the 
beginning and end of its effect. I have seen a man take 
his first glass of liquor in my place, and afterward 
plunge into the grave of a suicide. I have seen man 
after man, wealthy and educated, come into my saloon, 
who cannot now buy his dinner. I can recall twenty 
customers worth from one hundred thousand to five 
hundred thousand dollars, who are now without money, 
place, or friends. 

"I have seen many a young fellow, member of a tem- 
perance society, come in with a friend and wait while 
he took a drink. 'No, no, he would say, I never touch 
it; thanks, all the same.' But presently rather than 
seem too stiff he would take a glass of cider or lemon- 
ade. When he had done that I knew how it would 
end. So that the only safety for any one, no matter 
how strong his resolution is, is outside of the door of 
the saloon." 

This is strong testimony indeed and should be heeded. 
The true plan is to keep away from temptation. You 
lose nothing in health, wealth, or reputation by keeping 



86 practical acclamations* 

away from the saloon; thousands have lost their all by 
entering them. 



True Success. 

As we pass onward in life we shall find many men 
are rich; perhaps we shall envy them, for money is 
very convenient. But stop a while and think. Would 
we be rich through fraud? Those who become rich 
through fraud do not continue successful through life 
and leave a fortune behind them. Many men seem to 
become rich as if by magic, and people admire them 
and court them. A little thing, a fraud, and they fall 
into ruin. Those who make haste to be rich regardless 
of the means fall into temptation and commit crimes. 

We, who are gathered here to-day, will soon be 
men and begin to mingle with those who make money. 
Let us not be in a hurry to be rich; let us be honest 
at all events. Money made by fraud escapes; the 
success of a man is not measured by his money, and 
though people run after the rich, they do not respect 
them unless they are honest. True success comes 
from living earnestly, energetically and righteously. 



Do It for Yourself. 

Don't sit down and wait for helpers. Try those 
two old friends, your strong arms. Self's the man. 
If the fox wants poultry for her cubs she must carry 
the chickens herself; none of her friends will help her; 
she must run with her own legs, or the greyhounds 
will have her. Every man must carry his own sack 
to the mill. You must put your own shoulder to the 
wheel and keep it there, for there's plenty of ruts in 
the road. If you wait till all the ways are paved, 



sr>o 31t for yourself* 87 

you will nave light shining between your ribs. If you 
sit still till great men take you on their backs, you will 
sit there forever. Your own legs are better than stilts ; 
don't look to others, but trust in God and keep your 
powder dry. 

Don't be whining about not having a fair start. 
Throw a sensible man out of the w r indow, he'll fall on 
his legs and ask the nearest w T ay to his w^ork. The 
more you have to begin with the less you will have at 
the end. Money you earn for yourself is much brighter 
and sweeter than any you get out of dead men's bags. 
A scant breakfast in the morning of life whets the 
appetite for a feast later in the day. He who has 
tasted a sour apple will have more relish for a sweet 
one; your present want will make future prosperity 
all the sweeter. Eighteenpence has set up many a 
pedlar in business, and he has turned it over till he 
has kept his carriage. 

As for the place you are cast in, don't find fault 
with that. You need not be a horse because you 
were born in a stable. A hard-working young man, 
with his wits about him, will make money while others 
do nothing but lose it. 

Who loves his work and knows to spare, 
May live and flourish anywhere. 

As to a little trouble, who expects to find cherries 
without stones, or roses without thorns? Who would 
win must learn to bear. Idleness lies in bed sick with 
the mulligrubs where industry finds health and wealth. 
The dog in the kennel barks at the fleas ; the hunting- 
dog does not even know they are there. Laziness 
waits till the river is dry and never gets to market; 
Try swims it and makes all the trade. CanH do it 
couldn't eat the bread and butter which was cut for 
him, but Try made meat out of mushrooms. 

— Spurgeon. 



88 practical acclamations 



You Must Try. 

Good workmen are always wanted. No barber 
ever shaves so close but another barber will find 
something left. Nothing is so good but what it might 
be better; and he who sells the best wins the trade. 
"We are all going to the poorhouse because of the 
invention of machines" some say; but instead of that, 
all these threshing, and reaping, and hay-making 
machines have helped to make those men better off 
who had sense enough to work them. " Times are 
bad," they say; yes, and if you go gaping about and 
let your wits go wool-gathering, times always will be 
bad. 

Many don't get on because they have not the pluck 
to begin in right earnest. The first dollar laid by is 
the difficulty. The first blow is half the battle. Away 
with that beer- jug, up with the "Try" flag, and then 
to your work, and away to the savings-bank with 
your savings, and you will be a man yet. Poor men 
will always be poor if they think they must be. But 
there's a way up out of the lowest poverty if a man 
looks after it early, before he has a wife and a half a 
dozen children; after that he carries too much weight 
for racing, and most commonly he must be content if 
he finds bread for the hungry mouths and clothes for 
the little backs. Yet, some hens scratch all the better 
for having a great swarm of chicks. To young men 
the road up the hill may be hard, but at any rate it is 
open, and they who set stout heart against a stiff hill 
shall climb it yet. What was hard to bear will be sweet 
to remember. If young men would deny themselves, 
work hard, five hard, and save in their early days, 
they need not keep their noses to the grindstone all 
their lives, as many do. Let them be teetotalers for 
economy's sake; water is the strongest drink, it drives 



mills. It's the drink of lions and horses, and Samson 
never drank anything else. The beer-money would 
soon build a house. — Spurgeon. 



The Rumseller's Speech. 

"I am going to start a shop for the purpose of mak- 
ing drunkards, paupers, and beggars for the sober, 
industrious, and respectable part of the community to 
support. I shall sell stuff that will excite men to 
deeds of riot, robbery, and blood. I shall diminish 
the comforts, augment the expenses, and endanger 
the welfare of the community. I shall prepare victims 
for the asylum, the poorhouse, the prison, and the 
gallows. I shall keep for sale the cause of accidents, 
diseases, failures, and deaths. What I deal in will 
deprive men of reason, property, peace, home, respect, 
life, and heaven. It will turn fathers into fiends, 
wives to widows, children to orphans, and all to mendi- 
cants. I shall obstruct the progress of Christianity. 
I shall defile the purity of the church. I shall tempt, 
deceive, and ruin souls and spread abroad temporal, 
spiritual, and eternal death. But what of that. I 
shall make money, lots of money. For the American 
people forgive any man his sins if he only has money. 
And so I shall be esteemed. The politicians will 
come to me for my influence; with my fine house I 
shall forget how I got my cash. So I will go into this 
business and be esteemed." 



Cheek. 

No, my boy, cheek is not better than wisdom; it is 
not better than modesty; it is not better than anything. 
Don't listen to the siren who tells you to blow your own 



9<3 practical acclamations 

horn, or it will never be tooted upon. The world is 
not to be deceived by cheek, and it does search for 
merit, and when it finds it, merit is rewarded. Cheek 
never deceives the world, my boy. It appears to do 
so to the cheeky man, but he is the one who is deceived. 
Do you know one cheeky man, among all your acquaint- 
ances, who is not reviled for his cheek the moment his 
back is turned? Is the world continually drawing 
distinctions between cheek and merit? Almost every- 
body hates a cheeky man, my son. Society tires of 
the brassy glare of his face, his noisy assumption, and 
forwardness. The triumphs of cheek are only appar- 
ent. He bores his way along through the world, and 
frequently better people give way to him. But so do 
they give way, my boy, for a man with a paint-pot in 
each hand. Not because they respect the man with 
the paint-pot particularly, but because they want to 
take care of their clothes. You can sell goods without 
it, and your customers won't run and hide in the cellar 
when they see you coming. — Hawk Eye. 



A Valedictory Address. 

Kind Teacher: This is an occasion that we have 
looked forward to with joy, but now it has arrived 
we feel regret. We rejoice that the time has arrived 
when you shall adjudge us competent to graduate; 
we regret that the associations of the school- room 
must cease to exist except in the fond recollections 
of the past. We rejoice that we are to be accounted 
worthy to go into the world and aid its progress; we 
regret that we can no longer enjoy the benefits of your 
labors. We are unable to render compensation to 
you for your zeal and faithfulness. But as you have 
been faithful to us, so will we be faithful to others; 
as you have kindled the fires of enthusiastic zeal for 



& ©aieDictorp #ti&re$s* 91 

knowledge upon the altar of our hearts, so shall it be 
our pleasure and duty to perpetuate their glowing 
beauty and radiate their influence in all places possi- 
ble. As we pass from your watchfulness and care 
and go forth upon the great plain of life to battle for 
the advancement of human intelligence, culture, and 
refinement, your example shall be our guiding star. 
We doubt not but that you will esteem these a more 
noble recompense, a grander reward than silver or 
gold. With a deep sense of our obligations to you, 
and of gratitude for the ability, zeal, and care which 
you have ever exercised in our behalf, we one and all 
bid you a kind farewell. 

My Classmates : As we linger for a moment around 
this altar of friendship to enjoy the pleasant recollec- 
tions of the past, we hardly realize that our school-days 
are ended. But however reluctant w T e may be to sever 
our connection with the school we have learned to love, 
yet we are admonished that our accounts are already 
made up, and the last seal is now being affixed to the 
record that contains the history of our school-lives. 
Outside of these walls, which kind parents have thrown 
around us, are engaged a band of workers, earnestly 
striving to promote the welfare and happiness of the 
human race. The voice of duty calls us from these 
retreats to assist these workers. Let us see to it that 
the class of ' — furnishes no drones in the great hive 
of human industry; with that noble purpose which is 
born of true genuineness of character, and that in- 
flexible determination which knows no failure, let us 
pass out the gate that now opens and enter into the 
field of life's active duties. Let us resolve to discharge 
fully the obligations we owe to parents, and not dis- 
appoint their expectations. Let us help the world 
by earnestly striving to better its condition. Let us 
help ourselves by a continuous endeavor to build 
ourselves up to a higher and more noble style of 



92 practical H>eciamattort& 

manhood and womanhood. As we extend to each 
other the last farewell greetings of school-life, let us 
remember that the bright prospects which now spread 
out before us will fade away unless the theories which 
we have here received become practical realities. The 
elements of knowledge which we have here received 
we must incorporate in the realities of life, and the 
principles of moral rectitude which have been im- 
parted to us must be our guide in all our walks in life. 
In the language of the immortal Bryant: 

" Let us so live that when our summons comes 
To join the innumerable caravan 
That moves through the pale realms of shade, 
We may be like one who wraps 
The drapery of his couch about him, 
And lies down to pleasant dreams.' ' 



Employ Your Intellect. 

The first law of success to-day is concentration. 
You must bend all your energies to one point, looking 
neither to the right nor to the left. Life is so short, 
and the range of human knowledge has increased 
so enormously, that no brain can know all things. 
The man who would know one thing well must have 
the courage to be ignorant of a thousand things, how- 
ever attractive or inviting. As with knowledge, so 
with work. The man who would get along must single 
out his specialty, and into that must pour the whole 
stream of his activity — all the energies of his hand, eye, 
tongue, heart, and brain. It is the men of single and 
intense purpose, who steel their souls against all 
things else, who accomplish the hard work of the 
world, and who are everywhere in demand when 
hard work is to be done. 

Those who would succeed must know their own 



& Closing #DDre*& 93 

work perfectly; they must deny themselves general 
culture; they must be content if they can succeed in 
knowing one thing well. 



A Closing Address. 

SALUTATORY. 

In behalf of my teachers and classmates, I heartily 
welcome you here to-night to witness the last rites of 
our school-days. Bright, golden days they have been, 
around which the fondest memories will ever cling, 
and of which we can only think with a tear of regret 
that they have passed away so soon, for as we venture 
on the untried ocean we realize that "our lives have 
henceforth separate ends, and never can be one again." 
The joys and cares of our school-days over, we turn to 
you with a warm welcome on our lips and in our 
hearts. While we endeavor to entertain you to the best 
of our ability, we ask you to hear us patiently and to 
criticize us charitably, for our only wish is that you 
may be amply repaid for your attendance and attention. 

VALEDICTORY. 

To you, dear teacher, we are exceedingly grateful. 
During our sojourn with you, you have not only pa- 
tiently tried to impart to us knowledge, but also to 
teach us how to cultivate our minds. Feel assured 
that you will always be preserved in our memories, 
and when you think of us remember only our virtues. 
We give you our sincere thanks, and bid you good-by. 

Gentlemen of the Board of Education, we are espe- 
cially indebted to you for your hearty encouragement 
and support. You have labored most earnestly for 
the benefit of our dearly loved school, and we wish to 
acknowledge our gratitude and thanks. 

And now, my classmates, comes the sad duty of 



94 practical acclamations* 

reminding you that separation must take place. In 
surveying the experiences of our life thus far, we 
can but observe that we have had very few duties 
that cost great toil, or that had any woeful results. 
All our difficulties in the school-room, all our trials 
in home-life, all our pleasures have been shared with 
kind teachers, and loving parents, and buoyant school- 
mates. But now we are to be ushered into the strug- 
gling scenes of life, and find that all our sweet relations 
as class-mates must be severed, and the pleasing 
intercourse that existed between us and our teachers 
must be broken. Who can look back at those days 
without one long, long sigh? Who can help but wish 
them o'er again? These are the last exercises that 
mark the dividing line between school-life and the 
unknown future. In going forth, my dear classmates, 
to struggle in life's contests, let perseverance mark 
our efforts and morality our conduct. Let righteous- 
ness be our watchword, and let us act our part as men 
and women, that when we have finished the journey 
of life we may receive the crown of glory and happiness 
in immortal bliss. 



Work. 

There are people who despise work, who look with 
scorn upon an honest workman. The world could get 
along without such people far better than it could 
without the workman. What would the world do 
without the workman? What if bakers stopped bak- 
ing, the farmer stopped ploughing, the gardener gave 
up gardening, the tailor stopped sewing, the sailor 
refused to go to sea, because all of these things are 
hard work? A pretty pass we should come to. Some- 
body must work; if there were no workmen — only 
dandies — what a world it would be ! 



Work. 95 

We were made to work, and we are well paid for it, 
too. No matter what a man makes up his mind to 
have, by working for it he can get it. . Abraham 
Lincoln was once asked how he acquired his remarka- 
ble faculty of putting things together. "You are 
quite right," he said, "I did acquire it, I worked for it. 
When I was a youth, nothing made me so mad as to 
have a man say a thing I couldn't understand. I 
went to my room, shut myself in, and stayed till, by 
walking back and forth, I had picked to pieces what I 
heard, and then recast it in perfectly simple language.'' 
The world has only a smile of ridicule for idlers; it 
bestows its highest honors upon men who have worked 
hard for noble purposes. It is labor that drives the 
plow, scatters the seeds, reaps the harvest, grinds the 
corn, and converts it into bread. It is work that hews 
down the tree, shapes the timber, builds the ship, and 
guides it over the billows. Work is the mighty magi- 
cian that turns the desert into a garden and makes 
the waste smile with a harvest. 



*W 16 1903 



"HOW TO TEACH" SERIES 

A Library of the Best Modern Methods 

'MINETEEN numbers now ready, each devoted to a compact, concise 
discussion of the principles and methods of a particular bracch. 
They are written from the school-room standpoint and coDtaiD just the 
help the teacher most needs. Attractively printed on good paper, uni- 
formly bound in flexible cloth covers. 25 cents each. 

NO. AUTHOE 



1. How to Manage Busy Work - - - Kellogg 

2. How to Teach Botany - " 

3. How to Teach Paper Folding - - Latter 

4. How to Teach Reading - - Kellogg 

5. How to Make School-Room Charts 

6. How to Teach Minerals - - - Payne 

7. How to Teach Birds - 

8. How to Teach Bugs and Beetles - 

9. How to Teach Fractions - - - Kellogg 

10. How to Teach Clay Modeling - 

11. How to Teach Primary Arithmetic - Seeley 

12. How to Teach Butterflies and Bees - Payne 

13. How to Teach History- - - - Elson 

14. How to Teach Composition Writing - Kellogg 

15. How to Teach Constructive Work - Codd 

16. How to Teach About Aquatic Life - Payne 

17. How to Teach About Trees - 

18. How to Be a Successful Teacher - - Kellogg 

19. How to Decorate the School-Room - Coburn 

IN PEEPABATION; 

19. How to Teach Geography - 

20. How to Teach Physiology 

21. How to Teach Penmanship - 

22. How to Teach Spelling 

Write ns for special terms on the set. An agent wanted in every town. 
Every teacher needs a set of these interesting, practical books. 

E. L. KELLOGG & CO., 61 East 9th St., New York 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

022 204 599 



Five Leading 
Educational Periodicals 

THE. TEACHERS' INSTITUTE. 

The Teachers' Magazine. 3Ionthly, $1 a Year. 

Gives wonderful value for one dollar a year. Each number has 54 large pages? 
9 x 13 inches. It contains the methods of the most successful schools told by 
teachers who have used them. Everything written expressly for it. All depart- 
ments of school work covered. The School Entertainment pagesare famous. 
The [nstittjte has nearly 40,000 regular subscribers, leading all other educa- 
tional papers, a sure indication of its splendid value. 

THE SCHOOL JOURNAL 

Weekly, at $2.O0 a Year. 

The Eirst Educational Weekly. Established 1870* Eifty numbers a year, making 
a volume of about 1600 large pages, 9 x 13 inches, equal to 30 books, usually sold at 
$1.50 each. Many special issues are published during the year. Among these are : 
Twelve "School Board" Numbers, 40 to 54 pp. each; Ten "Method" Numbers; 
Ten "Educational Review" Numbers; A Superb,, Annual Summer" Number, 
100 pp.; A "Christmas" Number of 72 pp.; A "Private School" Number of 
§6 pp. 

THE PRIMARY SCHOOL 

Monthly, $1.00 a Year. 

Crowded with the best primary methods. The oldest, the most help-giving, 
the most carefully edited and beautifully illustrated primary paper. Tells what 
to do and how to do it. Nature Study, Reading, Language, Seat Work, Busy 
Work, Numbers, Hand Work— all subiects — the best methods in each. The 
** Hints and Helps" page is famous. The "Pieces to Speak "are very bright. 
The illustrations are very numerous and add greatly to its value and good looks. 
Every phase of the first four years' work receives help thru its columns. Each 
issue contains 52 large pages with colored cover and useful supplement. 

EDUCATIONAL FOUNDATIONS 

*' Monthly, $1.50 a Year 

is a monthly magazine of Pedagogy furnishing a home course of reading for 
teachers. Its leading departments are: History of Education, School Manage- 
ment, Theory of Teaching, and the N. Y. State Examination Questions, with 
Answers complete. 

Each department is conducted by a specialist in his subject. This furnishes 
the best possible course for teachers' meetings, reading circles, and for indi- 
vidual study. Hundreds of teachers' clubs meet weekly during the school year to 
read it together. 

OUR TIMES 

Fifty Cents a Year. 

The pioneer monthly news-magazine of the important events, discoveries, 
etc., for school room and home. The plan of this paper is to give: 1. A clear, 
condensed, and impartial account of the Leading Events of the Month. 2. The 
Important Inventions and Discoveries. 3. Interesting Geographical Material. 4. 
Answers to Questions of General Interest, relating to these and other kindred 
matters. 

Each number contains 32 pages, in magazine form, nicely illustrated with 
portraits, maps, and pictures of leading inventions. 

E. LKellogg&Co., **&%£ %£%%&&„ 6IE.NinthSt.,N.Y 



Conservation Resources 
Lig-Free® Type I 
Ph 8.5, Buffered 



LIBRARY OF CONGRES 



022 204 599 t 



